FOUR  FOR  A 


ukfc-t 


^ 


FOUR  FOR  si 
FORTUNE 

A  TALE.  By  ALBERT  LEE 
Author  of  "Tommy  Toddles" 
ILLUSTRATED  By  F.  C.  YOHN 


NEW     YORK     AND     LONDON 

HARPER    &     BROTHERS    PUBLISHERS 

1898 


Every  book  is,  in  an  intimate  sense,  a  circular  letter  to  the 
friends  of  him  who  writes  it.  They  alone  take  his  meaning; 
they  find  private  messages,  assurances  of  love,  and  expressions 
of  gratitude  dropped  for  them  in  every  corner.  The  public  is 
but  a  gene  rous  patron  who  defrays  the  postage. 

ROBERT  Louis  STEVENSON. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGB 

FOREWORD i 

I.   A  DINNER  AT  CHIFFARD'S  ....  5 
II.   A    HALF -BURNED   CHART    AND    ITS 

STORY 17 

III.  INVESTIGATION  AND  SPECULATION     .  33 

IV.  DEDUCTIONS  AND  CONCLUSIONS    .     .  44 
V.   THE  FINGER  OF  FATE 53 

VI.   A  PECULIAR  PARTNERSHIP  ....  69 

VII.   A  MOVE  IN  THE  RIGHT  DIRECTION  .  77 

VIII.    A  PLAN  OF  OPERATIONS 89 

IX.   EXPLANATIONS  AND  NEGOTIATIONS    .  99 
X.   THE     CAPTAIN     OF     THE     MERRY 

MADGE in 

XI.    A  CONTRACT 122 

XII.   A  VOYAGE  OVER-SEAS 130 

XIII.  A  BAD  START 141 

XIV.  THE  SUMMIT  OF  AN  ISLAND  PEAK   .  152 
XV.   A  PROBLEM  IN  GEOMETRY  ....  163 

XVI.    A  DAY  OF  TOIL 174 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XVII.   THE  SECRET  OF  THE  CHART     .     .  182 

XVIII.   FORTUNES  FOR  FOUR 194 

XIX.   THE  LAST  LOAD 206 

XX.    HOMEWARD  BOUND 215 

XXI.   AN  UNEXPECTED  OUTBREAK.     .     .  224 

XXII.    THE  FATE  OF  THE  MERRY  MADGE  243 

XXIII.  A  TREASURE  LAUGHED  AWAY  .     .  255 

XXIV.  CONCLUSION.  —  THE  YARN  OF  THE 

NOTRE  DAME 263 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


I   CONSENTED   TO   THRUST   MY   HEAD   INTO   THE 

HOLE Frontispiece 

THE  CHART Facing  p.  2O 

WE:  ALL  GAZED  IN  SILENCE  AT  THOSE  FEW 

SQUARE  INCHES  OF  CHARRED  PAPER  ...  "  24 

WE  WALKED  SLOWLY  HOMEWARD "  34 

"WE  HAVE  STRUCK  IT  AT  LAST!"  HE  CRIED  .  "  64 
A  SMALL  BOY  GUIDED  US  THROUGH  THE 

DARKNESS "  QO 

IN  THE  CABIN  OF  THE  MERRY  MADGE .  ...  "  124 

I  THOUGHT  THATCHER  HAD  GONE  MAD.  .  .  "  158 

WE  CARRIED  OUR  COINS  DOWN  IN  BASKETS  .  "  212 

I  FIRED  BOTH  PISTOLS  AT  ONE  TIME.  ...  "  240 
A  GREAT  DARK  OBJECT  ROSE  UP  OUT  OF  THE 

SEA "  248 


FOUR   FOR   A   FORTUNE 


A  MAJORITY  of  those  who  read  this 
story  will  set  it  down  as  fiction.  They 
will  refuse  to  believe  that  any  such  events 
as  are  here  narrated  could  occur  at  the 
close  of  the  nineteenth  century  without 
some  knowledge  of  them  coming  to  the  au- 
thorities, and  through  them  to  the  news- 
papers and  to  the  public.  There  are  some, 
however,  under  whose  eyes  these  pages 
may  come  who  will  know  that  this  is  his- 
tory ;  that  everything  told  of,  and  more 
too,  actually  happened ;  and  that  only  the 
names  of  individuals  are  changed — in 
some  cases  merely  disguised.  Others  will 
find  here  a  partial  explanation  of  certain 


FOUR    FOR    A    FORTUNE 

strange  occurrences  with  which  they  were 
innocently  more  or  less  connected. 

Chiffard  is  alive  and  thriving,  and  goes 
about  his  business  in  New  York  as  quiet- 
ly and  earnestly  as  if  he  had  never  stabbed 
a  man  and  thrown  his  body  into  the  sea. 
Carquemort  (thank  Heaven!}  is  dead,  and 
may  the  Devil  never  send  his  like  to  earth 
again.  Good  Captain  McLeod  is  no  long- 
er of  the  living ;  but  Glen,  I  hear,  has 
prospered  and  is  married. 

Thatcher  looked  over  this  manuscript 
before  it  left  my  hands,  and  although  he 
hesitated  at  first  over  the  possible  results 
of  the  publication  of  the  story,  he  soon 
came  to  view  the  situation  much  as  I  do, 
and  he  is  now  convinced  that  no  one  will 
believe  in  what  I  have  written. 

But  let  him  who  is  not  interested  in 
brawl  and  battle,  in  the  smell  of  the  sea, 
in  treasure  -  hunting  and  the  staking  of 
human  life  for  gold ;  in  treachery  and 
hate;  in  perseverance  and  daring — let  him. 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

/  say,  put  this  book  aside.  For  from  the 
moment  Carquemorfs  'mysterious,  hypnot- 
ic, half-burned  chart  came  into  our  lives, 
we  were  all  of  us  swept  along  in  an  irre- 
sistible current  made  up  of  just  those 
wretched  human  passions;  and  the  tale  of 
our  adventures  is  but  a  record  of  their 
workings  to  the  ultimate  logical  end. 

How  the  chart  actually  came  into 
Carquemort's  possession  I  do  not  know. 
He  said  he  found  it  in  an  old  strong- 
box that  had  belonged  to  his  grandfather; 
but  in  this  statement  he  lied,  as  was  after- 
wards conclusively  proven — -for  he  never 
had  a  grandfather.  It  is  more  than  prob- 
able that  he  stole  it ;  and  if  he  did  not 
murder  the  previous  owner,  the  latter 
should  be  devoutly  thankful  and  go  at 
once  to  his  little  seaport  shrine  and  burn 
three  candles  upon  the  altar  of  Our  Lady. 
Yet,  in  whatever  manner  he  became  pos- 
sessed of  it,  certain  it  is  that  Carquemort 
had  the  chart  when  we  Jirst  met  him  one 

3 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

stormy  night  in  April,  in  the  year  of  our 
Lord  1894.  As  I  look  back  upon  it  now, 
it  seems  the  bitterest  kind  of  irony  to  call 
that  the  ""year  of  our  Lord" ;  for  if  ever 
Satan  had  a  year,  or  a  portion  of  a  year, 
to  himself,  it  was  that  same  summer  of 
1894.  But  that  is  a  matter  aside. 


CHAPTER  I 
A  DINNER  AT   CHIFFARD'S 

IT  WAS  in  April,  1894  (as  I  have 
said),  that  we  met  Carquemort.  All  the 
afternoon  the  rain  had  been  coming 
down  in  streaks  from  a  mass  of  dark, 
woolly  clouds  overhead,  and  humanity 
was  soaked  in  discontent.  Earlier  in  the 
day  we  had  agreed,  Thatcher  and  I,  to 
brighten  the  evening  with  a  modest  meal 
at  Chiffard's;  and  thus  the  dinner-hour 
found  us  picking  our  way  over  the  glis- 
tening, puddly  pavements  of  South  Fifth 
Avenue  towards  Washington  Square. 
Near  Fourth  Street  we  turned  into  a 
narrow  doorway  that  broadens  out  into 
a  dark,  square  hall — damp,  stone -paved, 
and  heavy  with  an  odor  of  cooking — and 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

entered  the  cheerful  little  French  restau- 
rant that  occupies  the  lower  floor  of  the 
dingy  tenement.  The  two  small  rooms, 
set  with  a  dozen  white  tables,  were  warm 
and  well  lighted;  but  it  was  a  bad  night 
for  business,  and  only  three  guests  had 
preceded  us.  The  violinist  and  his  wife 
sat  in  the  corner  as  usual,  and  across  the 
room  was  a  bearded,  broad  -  shouldered 
fellow  who  scarcely  glanced  up  as  we  en- 
tered. He  appeared  thoroughly  uncon- 
scious of  any  one's  else  presence,  and 
punctuated  his  indifference  with  a  noisy 
mouthing  of  his  pot-au-feu. 

Madame  Chiffard,  who  was  at  her  post 
behind  the  little  marble  counter,  placidly 
hemming  a  new  dozen  of  napkins,  smiled 
benignly  as  the  door  opened  before  us, 
and  exclaimed  in  her  most  gracious  man- 
ner: 

"Ah,  messieurs,  mats  vous  avez  choisi 
du  bien  mauvais  temps  pour  venir  nous 
voirT 

6 


A  DINNER  AT  CHIFFARD'S 

Then,  turning  her  head  in  the  direction 
of  the  shaft  where  the  rickety  little  dumb- 
waiter rattled  incessantly  in  its  excur- 
sions to  the  lower  regions,  she  called  out: 

"Philippe !     Ces  messieurs  sont  la!" 

I  do  not  know  whether  we  were  the 
only  messieurs  who  patronized  Chiffard's, 
or  whether  Madame  had  in  her  heart  a 
softer  spot  for  us  than  for  her  other  cus- 
tomers;  but  whenever  she  announced  to 
Chiffard,  who  watched  over  the  pots  and 
kettles  below,  that  " ces  messieurs"  were 
"la"  we  could  always  confidently  look 
forward  to  the  enjoyment  of  an  unusual- 
ly well-cooked  dinner.  Thatcher  was  ex- 
ceedingly jealous  of  this  preference,  and 
he  had  long  ago  made  me  promise  never 
to  bring  any  one  to  dine  at  Chiffard's, 
or  even  to  tell  my  friends  of  the  little 
restaurant's  existence.  He  may  have  been 
justified  in  this  secretiveness,  for,  as  he 
explained  when  he  exacted  the  promise: 

"  It  is  bad  enough   to  sit  around  and 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

dine  with  a  lot  of  newspaper  men  and 
Bohemians"  (all  the  same, Thatcher  num- 
bered many  a  good  friend  and  cherished 
companion  among  these  same  newspaper 
men  and  Bohemians !),  "  but  when  they 
take  their  privacy  and  sell  it  at  space 
rates,  it  is  time  to  retire  from  their  com- 
pany. There  is  no  telling  when  you 
yourself  will  be  taken  as  a  subject  for  a 
Sunday  special.  You  know  how  good 
Binetti's  was,  two  years  ago  ?  And  you 
remember  those  jolly  summer  evenings 
we  used  to  spend  at  Dagorre's  ?  Well, 
those  fellows  had  to  go  and  write  about 
it  all,  didn't  they  ?  And  reprint  pictures 
stolen  from  the  Paris  weeklies  to  give 
their  stories  '  local  color  ?'  Bah  !  And 
now  Binetti's  is  full  of  dry-goods  clerks 
and  addle-pated  youths  who  call  nightly 
for  Chianti  (which  they  never  get !) ;  and 
Dagorre's  has  had  such  a  run  of  the  herd 
that  I  would  not  stall  my  horse  there— if 
I  had  one !" 

8 


A  DINNER  AT  CHIFFARD'S 

Fortunately  Thatcher's  autocratic  boy- 
cott of  Bohemians  and  newspaper  men 
did  not  seem  to  injure  Chiffard's  busi- 
ness. He  derived  a  good  trade  from  the 
French  folk  of  the  quarter,  and  pros- 
pered. One  day  he  consulted  with 
Thatcher  about  advertising  in  an  after- 
noon paper.  Thatcher  nearly  fainted  at 
the  suggestion,  and  forthwith  painted 
the  results  of  newspaper  advertising  in 
such  black  colors  that  the  frugal  French- 
man at  once  gave  up  all  idea  of  ever  see- 
ing his  name  in  print. 

"  The  day  will  come  soon  enough," 
Thatcher  said  to  me  afterwards,  "when 
Chiffard  will  believe  himself  the  only 
restaurant-keeper  who  ever  successfully 
boiled  a  bouillabaisse  south  of  the  Arch. 
Then  he  will  move  up  into  the  Tender- 
loin, hire  a  place  with  a  white  -  painted 
front  and  plate-glass  windows — and  fail !" 

Thatcher  was  at  times  inclined  to  be 
cynical. 


FOUR  FOR   A  FORTUNE 

But  to  return  to  this  eventful  evening 
of  the  year  of  the  Devil  1894.  By  the 
time  the  coffee  and  cheese  were  placed 
upon  the  table,  it  was  near  nine  o'clock. 
It  was  improbable  any  more  customers 
would  come  in.  Madame  stepped  down 
from  her  high  perch  behind  the  counter 
and  brought  her  sewing  to  our  table, 
where  her  husband  had  already  joined 
us.  He  wore  his  immaculate  cook's  hat 
on  the  back  of  his  head,  and  the  sleeves 
of  his  spotless  white  coat  were  turned 
well  up  so  as  to  display  a  pair  of  well- 
developed  tattooed  arms,  for  Chiffard  had 
served  in  the  French  Navy.  He  rolled 
cigarette  after  cigarette  and  puffed  the 
room  full  of  light-blue  smoke,  while  we 
all  talked  and  laughed  and  told  stories, 
as  you  always  do  at  Chiffard's,  and  drank 
pretty-colored,  queer-named  liqueurs  out 
of  funny  little  thimble -like  glasses,  and 
Thatcher  said  "SacreT  at  most  inoppor- 
tune moments — and  altogether  we  had  a 


A  DINNER  AT  CHIFFARD'S 

very  good  time.  Our  conversations  in 
the  little  restaurant  were,  of  course,  al- 
ways carried  on  in  French;  but  as  this 
is  neither  a  stenographic  report  nor  a 
dialectic  essay,  I  shall  not  attempt  to 
reproduce  the  cook's  wild  rhetoric  or 
Thatcher's  utter  disregard  of  the  rules 
set  down  by  Noel  and  Chaptal.  The 
topics  we  discussed  ranged  from  soup  to 
politics,  with  eloquence  for  the  former 
and  true  Gallic  vehemence  for  the  latter, 
for  Chiffard  was  what  Stevenson  would 
have  described  as  a  veritable  petard  of 
a  fellow,  although  by  no  means  worn  to 
skin  and  bone,  like  the  host  of  the  inn 
at  Origny-Sainte-Benoite.  Our  host  was 
fat.  His  petardism  was  at  times  trying 
to  my  nerves ;  but  Madame,  who  was  a 
quiet  little  body  herself,  used  to  notice 
this ;  and  I  think  she  sympathized  with 
me,  for  frequently,  with  one  hand  placed 
upon  her  spouse's  brawny  arm,  she  would 
adroitly  turn  the  drift  of  the  conversation 


FOUR  FOR  A   FORTUNE 

from  politics  back  again  to  soup.  And  I 
was  duly  grateful. 

On  this  particular  rainy  evening,  how- 
ever, the  petard  appeared  distracted  and 
thoughtful.  He  did  not  talk  so  boister- 
ously as  of  wont,  and  he  acted  as  a  man 
does  whose  mind  is  set  upon  another 
matter.  Frequently  he  looked  over  his 
shoulder  at  the  bearded  guest  in  the 
other  room.  The  fellow  had  finished  his 
dinner  and  sat,  pipe  in  mouth,  reading 
the  French  newspapers.  The  violinist 
and  his  wife  had  left  long  since,  and 
I  wondered  why  the  stranger  lingered. 
After  a  while  Chiffard  said : 

"  That  man  used  to  be  a  quartermaster 
in  the  French  Navy." 

"  He  looks  more  like  a  pirate,"  said 
Thatcher. 

"  I  think  he  deserted,"  continued  Chif- 
fard. "  He  does  not  say  much  about  it. 
I  knew  him  ten  years  ago  on  the  Cuver- 
ville,  and  befriended  him  once." 


A  DINNER  AT  CHIFFARD'S 

"  I  suppose  he  wants  a  meal  on  the 
strength  of  his  reminiscences,"  I  sug- 
gested. 

"  No.  He  pays.  It  is  not  that  he 
wants."  Chiffard  glanced  over  his  shoul- 
der again,  and  then  leaning  forward  to  us, 
he  whispered :  "  He  showed  me  a  chart !" 

This  statement  evidently  did  not  im- 
press either  Thatcher  or  me  as  much  as 
ChirTard  had  intended  it  should. 

"  Is  there  anything  particularly  odd 
about  a  sailor  having  a  chart  ?"  I  asked, 
noticing  his  disappointment. 

"  You  do  not  understand,"  whispered 
Chiffard  again.  "It  is  gold — it  is  treas- 
ure !" 

"  Oho  !"  exclaimed  Thatcher,  laughing. 
"Mr.  Bunco,  eh?  How  much  did  he 
want  you  to  invest  in  the  chart?" 

"  Ah,  it   is  not  that.     He  will  not  sell 

the  map.     He  does  not  know  where  the 

place    is.     He  wants   me  to  tell  him  of 

some  one  who  can  help  him  to  find  out." 

13 


FOUR  FOR   A  FORTUNE 

"  Well,  bring  him  over  here,"  suggested 
Thatcher,  "  and  tell  him  I  am  an  authori- 
ty on  Captain  Kidd  and  buried  treasure 
and  mysterious  islands.  Tell  him  I'll 
find  the  gold  for  him  if  he  will  give  me 
half  the  spoils  !" 

"  I  fear  he  will  not  trust  you  Ameri- 
cans," said  Chiffard,  who  seemed  to  take 
the  treasure  chart  most  seriously.  "  You 
see,  he  waits  for  you  to  go.  He  wants  to 
come  and  talk  to  me  again." 

We  urged  Chiffard  to  invite  the  stran- 
ger to  our  table,  and  although  he  de- 
murred considerably  at  first,  he  finally 
turned  towards  the  man  and  said : 

"E/it  Monsieur  Carquemort !  Venez 
done prendre  quelque  chose  avec  nous" 

Carquemort  looked  up  from  his  pa- 
per, grunted  something  that  sounded 
like  " Merci  bien"  and  went  on  reading 
again. 

"  What  a  bear !"  remarked  Madame. 

"  You  see,  he  will  not,"  said  Chiffard, 
14 


A   DINNER  AT  CHIFFARD'S 

shrugging  his  shoulders.  But  Thatcher 
was  not  to  be  so  easily  denied.  He 
called  upon  our  host  to  go  over  and  per- 
suade the  seaman  to  join  us,  and  when 
Chiffard  persistently  objected  Thatcher 
threatened  to  go  and  get  him  himself. 
Thereupon  Chiffard  rose  reluctantly  and 
went  over  to  Carquemort  and  sat  down 
beside  him.  They  talked  for  several  min- 
utes in  undertones. 

"  All  that  fellow  needs  to  make  him 
look  like  a  genuine  pirate,"  observed 
Thatcher,  as  we  watched  them,  "  is  a  red 
handkerchief  tied  around  his  head,  a  cut- 
lass in  his  hand,  and  a  brace  of  pistols  in 
his  belt." 

I  looked  at  him  again,  and  could  not 
but  appreciate  the  force  of  the  remark. 
Little  did  I  suspect  that  under  three 
months  I  should  see  this  same  Carque- 
mort in  practically  the  outfit  suggested 
by  Thatcher,  standing  on  the  deck  of  a 
vessel  at  sea,  cursing  and  fighting — a  real 
15 


FOUR  FOR   A   FORTUNE 

pirate  in  appearance  and  at  heart,  if  ever 
there  was  one.  The  greatest  blessing 
Divine  Providence  has  wasted  on  hu- 
manity is  ignorance  of  the  future. 

After  ten  minutes  of  conversation  with 
Chiffard,  Carquemort  consented  to  ac- 
cept our  hospitality.  When  Madame 
saw  him  coming,  she  gathered  up  her 
napkins  and  bade  us  good-night,  saying 
she  found  no  pleasure  in  the  society  of 
the  villains  her  husband  was  occasionally 
forced  to  entertain. 


CHAPTER  II 
A  HALF-BURNED  CHART  AND  ITS  STORY 

THERE  have  been  moments  when  I  felt 
convinced  that  Carquemort  possessed  not 
a  single  redeeming  virtue,  but  if  only  for 
the  sake  of  ruining  his  chance  to  prior- 
ity in  hell,  I  must  concede  him  one.  He 
always  came  directly  to  the  point,  what- 
ever might  be  the  subject  under  discus- 
sion. This  is  unusual  with  a  French- 
man, especially  with  a  Frenchman  of  his 
class,  or  with  any  man  of  his  nature,  if 
his  mate  exists  on  earth  unhanged. 
There  was  never  any  beating  about  the 
bush  with  Carquemort ;  and  he  had 
what  was  sometimes  a  most  objectiona- 
ble habit  of  calling  a  spade  a  spade. 

The    night   of    our    first    meeting    he 
H  17 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

pulled  a  chair  up  to  the  table  after  the 
formal  introductions  had  been  made,  and, 
looking  first  at  one  of  us  and  then  at  the 
other  with  his  small,  heavy-browed,  beady 
eyes,  he  said : 

"  Chiffard  has  told  you  that  I  have  a 
chart,  and  you  want  to  see  it  ?" 

"  That's  about  the  size  of  it,"  answered 
Thatcher,  lightly ;  but  Carquemort  glared 
at  him  in  a  manner  which  plainly  show- 
ed he  did  not  like  this  levity,  and  I  real- 
ized at  once  we  must  go  about  it  care- 
fully if  we  wished  the  man  to  talk.  I 
kicked  Thatcher  under  the  table.  Then 
I  said : 

"  Chiffard  has  told  us  about  the  chart, 
but  not  much.  As  I  understand  it,  you 
have  a  map  on  which  is  designated  the 
location  of  hidden  treasure.  Such  things 
are  always  interesting,  of  course  ;  but  one 
does  not  run  across  hidden  treasure  very 
frequently  nowadays,  and  it  will  require 
some  proof  to  persuade  us  that  your 

18 


A  HALF-BURNED  CHART  AND  ITS  STORY 

chart  is  not  a  blagiie.  If  you  can  do  that, 
we  may  be  able  to  aid  you." 

"  You  speak  well,"  answered  Carque- 
mort.  "  Chiffard  assures  me  that,  al- 
though Americans,  you  are  both  men  of 
honor,  and  that  if  I  show  you  the  chart 
you  will  put  your  knowledge  of  its  con- 
tents to  no  other  use  but  that  which  may 
be  agreed  to  between  us.  As  to  wheth- 
er it  is  a  blague — it  will  not  take  you  long 
to  determine  that  for  yourself." 

He  spoke  as  a  man  rilled  with  confi- 
dence, and  I  admit  I  was  impressed  by 
his  manner.  We  readily  agreed  to  make 
no  use  of  information  we  might  derive 
from  the  chart,  for  all  we  wanted  of  it, 
and  of  him,  was  an  evening's  entertain- 
ment. Chiffard  sat  by  in  silence,  leaning 
forward  on  both  elbows,  eagerly  attentive, 
and  Thatcher  had  assumed  a  gravity  of 
demeanor  which  seemed  to  reassure  Car- 
quemort,  and  which  apparently  inspired 
him  with  confidence  in  Thatcher's  integ- 
19 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

rity.  He  felt  in  the  inner  pocket  of  his 
double-breasted  sailor -jacket  and  pulled 
out  a  dark  -  leather  pocket  -  book,  from 
which  he  took  a  well  -  worn,  blue  -  linen 
envelope.  From  this  he  extracted  the 
chart  and  laid  it  on  the  table. 

I  cannot  analyze  the  peculiar  feelings 
which  came  over  me  the  instant  I  saw 
that  piece  of  paper.  They  were  a  mixt- 
ure of  fear,  greed,  hope,  and  determina- 
tion. There  was  no  sensation  of  doubt, 
and  none  of  joy.  I  have  tried  many  times 
to  explain  to  Thatcher  just  how  I  felt,  and 
he  has  tried  to  do  the  same  concerning 
himself,  for  me ;  but  neither  of  us  has 
been  very  successful.  We  both  agree 
that  our  brains  swam  in  a  kind  of  feverish 
excitement.  As  for  me,  I  was  satisfied 
at  a  glance  that  the  map  was  a  very  an- 
cient one,  and  my  interest  was  at  once 
bound  up  in  it.  Thatcher,  from  scoffer, 
turned  champion — aye,  fanatic — so  won- 
derful was  the  influence  of  that  bit  of 


THE   CHART 


A  HALF-BURNED  CHART  AND   ITS  STORY 

brown  paper  on  him.  There  was  some- 
thing uncanny  in  this  fascination,  some- 
thing weird  and  of  the  supernatural ;  and 
it  was  exerted  over  every  one  who  ever 
^aw  the  chart.  I  could  well  understand 
why  Chiffard  had  felt  so  restless  and  un- 
easy earlier  in  the  evening. 

It  was  a  small  piece  of  brown  paper, 
so  thick  that  I  took  it  at  first  to  be 
parchment.  It  had  originally  been  ob- 
long in  form,  about  three  inches  by  five ; 
but  when  we  first  saw  it  a  portion  had 
been  burned  away,  leaving  the  top  and 
the  right-hand  edge  of  the  paper  charred 
and  irregular.  Across  the  upper  portion 
these  words,  prefixed  by  a  cross  in  red 
ink,  remained  of  what  had  been  written: 

X  Ici  son  oooo  .  .  . 

environ  en  or    pieces  et  .  .  . 

The  cross  referred  to  a  similar  red  mark 
on  one  of  a  group  of  islands  carefully 
outlined  in  the  centre  of  the  sheet.  The 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

name  of  the  group  had  evidently  been 
written  down,  for  near  the  charred  edge 
of  the  paper  appeared  these  fragments  of 
words  in  capital  letters : 


ILE 
SAI 
MI 


The  remaining  space  was  taken  up 
with  what  appeared  to  be  a  kind  of  ex- 
planatory inscription,  fully  half  of  which 
had  been  destroyed  in  the  burning.  This 
much  had  been  spared : 

Pour  trouver  la  each 

on  se  met  le  dos 

centre  le  mat 

Ton  marche 

directe  ver 

croix  sur 

chiens  u 

de  25  pa 

la  pierr 

creuse 

22 


A  HALF  BURNED   CHART  AND   ITS  STORY 

A  much  better  conception  of  what  the 
document  looked  like  may  be  obtained 
from  the  picture  given  herewith,  which  is 
taken  from  a  photograph  of  the  original. 
But  no  reproduction  or  description  can 
ever  convey  the  slightest  idea  of  the  won- 
derful fascination  the  original  chart  itself 
had  upon  all  those  who  saw  it  or  who 
came  in  contact  with  it.  Chiffard  said  it 
was  bewitched,  and  he  may  be  right.  I 
used  to  scoff  at  any  belief  in  supernat- 
ural agencies  or  influences ;  but  I  have 
gotten  over  that  now. 

We  all  four  sat  there  in  silence  gazing 
at  those  few  square  inches  of  yellow  pa- 
per, the  fever  burning  in  our  pulses  and 
our  heads  throbbing.  Finally,  Carque- 
mort  knocked  the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe, 
and  this  pounding  on  the  table  brought 
us  back  to  our  senses.  Thatcher  was  the 
first  to  speak : 

"  Where  are  these  islands  ?"  he  asked. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  replied  Carquemort. 
23 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

"  That  is  what  he  wants  you  to  find 
out,"  put  in  Chiffard,  nervously. 

"  But  there  are  a  good  many  islands  in 
this  world,"  said  I,  picking  up  the  chart 
and  scrutinizing  it  carefully ;  "  and  there 
is  not  much  of  a  clew  to  the  whereabouts 
of  this  particular  group  to  be  found  in 
this  map.  How  did  it  come  to  get 
burned  ?" 

"  I  cannot  tell,"  said  Carquemort.  "  It 
was  so  when  I  got  it." 

"  And  where  did  you  get  it  ?" 

He  hesitated  a  moment,  then  replied : 
"  It  came  to  me  when  my  grandfather 
died.  But  that  is  unimportant.  Here  is 
the  chart.  We  will  talk  of  that."  His 
tone  plainly  forbade  further  inquiry.  But 
I  was  athirst  for  facts. 

"  I  don't  want  to  ask  unreasonable 
questions,"  I  said,  "  but  there  are  some 
things  we  must  know."  Carquemort's 
face  twitched  slightly,  and  he  started  to 

speak ;   but   I  raised  my  hand  and  shut 
24 


A  HALF-BURNED  CHART  AND   ITS  STORY 

him  off.  "  Wait  a  moment.  We  are  in- 
terested in  this  map — very  much  interest- 
ed, as  you  no  doubt  see.  I  don't  care  so 
far  as  you,  personally,  are  concerned  where 
or  how  you  got  it ;  but  I  want  some  ex- 
planation of  how  it  came  to  light  after 
apparently  having  been  hidden  away  for 
so  many  years.  Do  you  understand  what 
I  mean  ?" 

"  I  do,"  said  Carquemort,  somewhat  sul- 
lenly. 

"  Don't  you  see,"  I  continued,  persua- 
sively, "  that,  unless  we  can  satisfy  our- 
selves that  no  one  else  has  had  posses- 
sion of  this  map  in  a  way  to  know  its 
value,  there  is  no  use  of  our  spending 
our  time  in  seeking  out  these  islands  ?" 

"  I  do  not  believe  the  existence  of  the 
paper  has  been  known  of  for  over  a  hun- 
dred years,"  answered  Carquemort,  slow- 
ly, and  with  much  apparent  effort.  "The 
paper  was  locked  in  a  box.  I  opened  the 
box  three  years  ago  in  St.  Malo.  A  lad 
25 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

read  to  me  the  writing  on  the  paper,  and 
I  kept  it  without  telling  any  one  of  it. 
The  lad  was  much  excited  and  deeply 
affected  by  what  he  read,  just  as  you 
have  been  and  as  I  was  when  he  repeated 
it  to  me ;  but  he  promised  to  tell  no  one 
of  it,  and  I  believe  he  kept  his  word.  At 
any  rate,  he  had  little  time  to  speak  much 
of  it,  for  we  sailed  away  on  the  same 
bark — the  Sainte  Genevieve — three  days 
later,  he  as  mousse  and  I  as  second 
mate." 

Here  Carquemort  paused  for  a  mo- 
ment and  inhaled  a  cloud  of  smoke. 

"  He  was  the  only  one  besides  myself 
who  knew  of  the  existence  of  the  chart," 
he  continued.  "  He  was  washed  over- 
board one  night." 

He  spoke  in  hoarse  tones,  and  his 
voice  grew  fainter  as  he  told  the  story. 
The  last  words  were  almost  whispered  as 
he  leaned  far  over  the  table,  looking  at 

none   of  us,  and  they  could  not  conceal 
26 


A  HALF-BURNED  CHART  AND  ITS  STORY 

the  truth.  I  shuddered  and  closed  my 
eyes,  but  so  great  an  impression  did  the 
story  make  upon  my  mind  that  I  have 
since  frequently  wakened  from  a  sound 
sleep  at  hearing  that  boy's  cry  as  he  was 
"  washed  overboard  "  in  the  night. 

There  was  another  brief  silence,  broken 
at  last  by  Thatcher. 

"  You  can't  read,  then  ?" 

"  No,  sir." 

"  That's  why  you  showed  the  map  to 
the  boy  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  And  who  else  has  seen  it  since  ?" 

"  No  one — until  to-day.  I  showed  it 
then  to  Chiffard." 

"  Why  did  you  keep  it  so  secret  for 
three  years  ?"  I  interrupted,  somewhat 
impatiently.  "  You  said  it  was  three 
years  ago  you  got  it  in  St.  Malo,  didn't 
you  ?" 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  sitting  up  straight 
and  raising  his  voice  until  it  sounded  al- 
27 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

most  like  a  hoarse  yell  in  the  quiet  little 
room.  "  Three  years  I  kept  it.  I  could 
not  use  it.  There  seemed  to  be  a  curse 
upon  it.  I  was  superstitious,  perhaps." 
Then  his  voice  lowered,  and  there  was  an 
expression  of  almost  savage  greed  in  the 
depths  of  his  eyes.  "  But  I  must  use  it 
now.  I  might  as  well  die  finding  the 
gold  as  die  for  fear  of  it !  Ask  me  no 
more — I  have  answered  your  question. 
It  is  certain  that  nobody  has  seen  this 
chart  since  it  was  made  and  hidden  away, 
and  I  believe  it  must  have  been  in  exist- 
ence a  hundred  years  or  more." 

"  But  there  is  one  more  point  upon 
which  we  must  be  satisfied,"  I  insisted, 
"  and  after  that  we  can  let  the  past  be 
gone.  How  came  you  here,  having  sailed 
from  St.  Malo  three  years  ago  ?" 

"  The  Sainte  Genevi^eve  was  bound  for 
Cayenne,  French  Guiana,"  proceeded  Car- 
quemort,  straightforwardly,  now  some- 
what calmed.  "  We  had  bad  weather  from 
28 


A  HALF-BURNED  CHART  AND   ITS  STORY 

the  start,  and  at  the  end  of  four  months 
were  blown  upon  the  desert  island  of 
Trinidad,  off  Brazil.  The  bark  went  to 
pieces  on  the  rocks  and  two  of  the  men 
died.  The  rest  of  us  were  taken  off  at  the 
end  of  six  weeks  by  a  British  tramp,  that 
landed  us  in  Buenos  Ayres.  The  French 
Consul  there  finally  put  us  aboard  a 
steamer  for  London,  but  we  broke  down 
and  had  to  put  into  Rio.  There  I  left 
my  mates  and  shipped  on  a  coffee-trader 
for  New  Orleans.  We  lay  three  months 
at  Santos  (where  the  men  were  dying 
like  flies  with  yellow  -  fever)  before  we 
could  get  a  cargo ;  and  when  at  last  I 
got  to  New  Orleans,  a  month  ago,  with 
fifty  dollars  in  my  pocket,  I  made  up  my 
mind  that  as  soon  as  we  could  clear  quar- 
antine I'd  come  to  New  York  and  see  if 
I  could  not  get  a  change  of  luck.  This 
chart  is  all  I  have,  and  I'm  going  to  find 
these  islands  if  I  can  get  any  help;  it's 
the  last  card  I  have  to  play !" 
29 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

"  Well,"  said  I,  "  exactly  what  do  you 
wish  to  do  if  by  any  means  we  should 
discover  the  location  of  these  islands  ?" 

"  Go  there,"  said  Carquemort,  curtly. 

"  But  that  will  cost  money,"  said 
Thatcher. 

"  I  furnish  the  chart ;  you  furnish  the 
money." 

"  And  then  what  ?"  I  asked. 

14  About  the  treasure  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  We  divide." 

u  If  we  furnish  money  enough  to  get 
to  these  islands — wherever  they  may  be 
— and  find  the  treasure,  you  will  share 
equally  with  us  anything  that  may  be  un- 
earthed?" 

"  I  will  agree  to  that,"  said  Carque- 
mort. 

"  I  should  like  to  think  this  over  a  lit- 
tle," I  said,  in  an  undertone,  turning  to 
Thatcher. 

"  Of  course,"  he  replied ;  "  but  I  wanted 
30 


A  HALF-BURNED  CHART  AND  ITS  STORY 

to  know  what  kind  of  a  deal  he  was  willing 
to  make." 

"  And  me  ?"  exclaimed  the  cook,  anx- 
iously— "  and  me  ?  Where  am  I  in  here?" 

"  We  shall  have  to  see  about  that,  Chif- 
fard,"  answered  Thatcher,  smiling.  "We 
will  dine  here  again  to-morrow  night,  and 
then  perhaps  we  can  talk  more  seriously 
about  this." 

"  That  is  all  very  well,"  said  I ;  "  but 
how  can  we  talk  about  it  if  we  don't 
know  where  the  islands  are  ?  How  is 
that  to  be  learned  ?"  And  I  turned  in- 
quiringly towards  Carquemort. 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders  after  the 
fashion  of  his  race,  and  asked  if  there 
was  not  enough  written  on  the  chart  to 
show  where  the  treasure  was  hidden.  He 
seemed  incredulous  when  we  told  him 
that  there  were  only  a  few  letters  that 
gave  the  slightest  clew  to  the  identity  of 
the  islands. 

"  But  there  may  be  enough,"  added 
31 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

Thatcher;  "and  after  we  have  set  to  work 
in  earnest  we  may  be  able  to  decipher  the 
enigma.  I  don't  intend  to  throw  up  my 
hands  yet."  I  had  never  seen  him  so  en- 
thusiastic. 

It  was  some  time  before  we  could  per- 
suade Carquemort  to  let  us  have  a  copy 
of  the  chart;  but  we  finally  convinced 
him  that  no  harm  could  possibly  come  of 
it,  and  that  we  must  have  some  such  data 
to  aid  us  in  working  out  the  problem  that 
must  be  solved  before  any  further  steps 
could  be  taken.  And  so,  after  the  map 
and  the  writing  had. been  carefully  traced 
upon  a  thin  sheet  of  paper,  Carquemort 
put  the  precious  documents  away  in  his 
pocket  again,  and  we  parted  for  the  night. 


CHAPTER  III 
INVESTIGATION    AND    SPECULATION 

IT  was  late  when  we  left  Chiffard's. 
The  rain  had  ceased,  and  as  we  walked 
slowly  homeward  over  the  dappled  pave- 
ments we  discussed  the  unusual  events  of 
the  evening.  We  both  frankly  admitted 
to  each  other  being  deeply  affected  by 
what  we  had  seen  and  heard,  and  neither 
concealed  his  anxiety  to  get  to  work  at 
the  deciphering  of  the  mysterious  chart — 
an  undertaking  which  must — now — seem 
to  any  sane  person  an  absolutely  impossi- 
ble task.  But  the  sane  person  is  not  un- 
der the  influence  which  overpowered  us 
at  that  time. 

"  Let  us  be  systematic,  and,  at  least,  be- 
gin at  the  beginning,"  I  suggested,  as  we 

c  33 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

laid  the  tracing  out  on  the  table.  "  The 
first  sentence  we  find  somewhat  the  worse 
for  wear,  but  what  there  is  of  it  is  plain 
enough : 

• 

" Ici  son  oooo  .  .  . 

environ  en  or    pieces  et  .  .  ." 

"  That  doesn't  look  over  -  promising, 
does  it  ?"  said  Thatcher.  "  But  it  is  plain 
that  son  was  originally  sont? 

"Plain  as  day.  Icisont — here  are ;  or,in 
the  words  of  the  head-stones, '  here  lie.' " 

"  Four  zeros." 

"  That  must  have  been  at  the  very  least 
i  oooo,"  I  said. 

"  Fully  that.  I  don't  see  how  it  could 
have  been  less.  You  are  conservative." 

"  My  real  opinion,  however,  is  that  the 
total  figure  represented  a  larger  sum." 

"  There  is  certainly  room  enough  for 
more  figures  on  that  line,"  said  Thatcher, 
laughing. 

"  Oh  yes ;  but  you've  got  to  put  a  word 

34 


WE  WALKED   SLOWLY   HOMEWARD 


INVESTIGATION  AND  SPECULATION 

in  between  sont  and  the  zeros — enterres, 
or  caches,  or  deposes,  or  something  equiva- 
lent." 

"  But  even  the  longest  one  of  those 
words  would  leave  plenty  of  space  for 
more  figures."  And  we  went  at  our  prob- 
lem with  a  millimetre  measure,  gauging 
the  spread  of  the  chart-maker's  chirogra- 
phy.  But  of  course  it  all  came  to  naught, 
and  we  presently  abandoned  that  investi- 
gation and  took  up  the  second  line,  "en- 
viron en  or  pieces  et  .  .  ." 

"  It  looks  as  if  there  might  have  been 
another  word  after  those  zeros,"  said 
Thatcher. 

"  There's  certainly  something  lacking 
in  the  sentence  as  it  stands.  Suppose 
the  first  missing  word  were  '  hidden.' 
Then  it  would  read,  '  Id  sont  caches  .  .  . 

0000  .  .  .  environ  en  or    pieces  et  .  .  .' 

1  think  there  ought  to  be  some  punctua- 
tion after  or,  say  a  comma  or  a  dash; 
'pieces  ^/'and  whatever  followed  were  ex- 

35 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

planatory  of  the  gold;  don't  you  think 
so  ?  Pieces  means  coin — pieces  of  money. 
Evidently  the  treasure  is  in  coin  and 
bullion,  or  ingots,  eh  ?  Ingots  is  a  good 
old  pirate  word ;  pieces  et  lingots.  How's 
that?" 

"  Make  it  pieces  et  lingots  for  the  pres- 
ent. But  how  about  the  word  following 
the  zeros?" 

After  a  good  deal  of  debate  and  thought, 
it  struck  us  that  this  word  must  have  been 
some  expression  of  monetary  value— such 
as  francs,  pounds,  ducats,  doubloons,  or 
Louis  d'or;  and  this  seemed  reasonable, 
since  it  would  have  been  only  natural  for 
the  writer  of  the  map  to  designate  in  some 
way  the  value  of  his  buried  hoard.  So 
we  gave  up  speculating  upon  that  sen- 
tence and  turned  to  the  consideration  of 
the  eight  capital  letters  that  stood  below, 
near  the  outline  of  the  islands,  and,  after 
a  brief  examination,  we  concluded  that 
these  fragments 


INVESTIGATION  AND  SPECULATION 

ILE 
SAI 
MI 

must  represent  the  name  of  the  group. 
We  determined,  at  any  rate,  to  proceed 
on  this  basis,  and  should  our  premises 
prove  false,  we  could  but  begin  over  again. 

"ILE  is  certainly  the  French  for  isl- 
and," said  Thatcher,  writing  the  letters 
out  on  a  pad. 

"  It  was  probably  written  ILES"  said 
I,  "  in  the  plural,  for  you  see  there  are 
more  islands  than  one  shown  on  the  map, 
and  the  last  letter  has  no  doubt  been 
burned  off.  Let  us  take  that  for  grant- 
ed— we  have  got  to  take  a  lot  for  granted 
in  this  search,  so  it  matters  little  where 
we  begin.  Now  here  we  have  ILES 
SAI  .  .  .  MI  .  .  ." 

"  Exactly,"  returned  Thatcher.  "  Now, 
the  main  question  is,  Where  are  the  lies 
Sai  .  .  .  Mi  .  .  .?" 

"  By  Jericho !"  I  exclaimed,  jumping  to 

37 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

my  feet,  "  I  have  it !  It's  as  plain  as  day  ! 
The  S-A-I  stands  for  Saint.  They  are 
the  Isles  of  Saint  something." 

"  Certainly !"  shouted  Thatcher,  now 
very  much  excited ;  "  that's  it  precisely. 
Saint  Michael,  eh  ?  —  or,  rather,  Saint 
Michel? 

"Are  there  any  lies  Saint  Michel?"  I 
asked,  trembling  with  excitement. 

"  Oh,  there  must  be !"  gasped  Thatcher 
— "  there  must  be !  The  French  have 
islands  and  towns  for  every  saint  on  the 
calendar." 

"  They  probably  have,"  I  continued, 
more  calmly;  "but  Michael  surely  has 
not  a  monopoly  on  the  initial  letters  M  I. 
There  may  be  any  number  of  saints 
whose  names  begin  with  those  letters." 

"  How  shall  we  find  out  ?" 

"  One  way  is  to  get  a  gazetteer  or  a  geo- 
graphical dictionary,  and  write  out  a  list 
of  all  the  islands  whose  names  begin  with 
Saint  Mi  .  .  ." 

38 


INVESTIGATION  AND  SPECULATION 

"  That's  it,"  interrupted  Thatcher,  glee- 
fully ;  "  and  then  we'll  get  a  map  and  look 
up  each  one  until  we  find  the  group  that 
corresponds  in  outline  and  general  con- 
figuration with  the  one  sketched  on  the 

O 

chart.  My  boy,  my  boy,  have  a  million 
with  me !" 

It  took  us  much  longer,  of  course,  to 
arrive  at  these  conclusions  than  I  have 
here  set  down,  but  having  reached  them 
in  approximately  that  line  of  reasoning, 
we  felt  satisfied  with  our  achievement, 
and  brought  down  the  stocky  bottle  of 
King  William  from  the  top  shelf  and 
built  castles  so  high  and  so  late  that  the 
dawn  crept  in  through  the  windows  and 
gilded  their  mythical  battlements  before 
we  parted,  promising  to  meet  a  few  hours 
later  in  the  Astor  Library. 

Here  we  encountered  our  first  disap- 
pointment, as  I  had  had  a  vague  fear  we 
should,  as  the  gazetteer  was  replete  with 
names  of  saintly  islands  that  began  with 

39 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

the  letters  M  I.  There  were  Saint  Mi- 
chaels, Saint  Michels,  Saint  Mihiels, 
Saint  Miguels,  and  Saint  Miniatos  with- 
out number. 

"  Well,"  observed  Thatcher,  sadly,  "  it's 
a  case  of  take-your-choice,  I  suppose." 

"  It's  a  case  of  work,"  I  answered.  "  The 
process  of  elimination  will  be  a  long  one, 
but  it  must  be  thoroughly  done.  Get  an 
atlas." 

While  Thatcher  was  making  life  a 
burden  to  the  librarian  in  his  attempt  to 
get  maps  of  the  world  on  the  largest  pos- 
sible scale,  I  wrote  down  one  beneath  the 
other,  in  a  long  list,  the  names  of  the 
islands  that  might  hold  our  secret.  When 
completed,  there  were  over  thirty  on  the 
list,  the  most  promising  being  the  islands 
of  Saint  Michael  in  the  Azores,  Saint 
Michael  in  Cornwall,  and  Saint  Michael 
off  the  coast  of  Labrador.  We  patiently 
searched  out  each  individual  isle  and  each 

group  separately,  and  compared  them  with 
40 


INVESTIGATION  AND  SPECULATION 

our  tracing  of  Carquemort's  chart,  but  not 
one  corresponded  in  any  way.  Then  we 
made  a  second  and  a  third  comparison, 
and  at  the  end  we  had  not  even  a  hope 
left  that  the  chart-maker  had  been  a  poor 
draftsman,  and  had  only  roughly  outlined 
the  spot  where  his  treasure  lay.  There 
was  no  group  of  four  islands  with  a  name 
beginning  "  Saint  Mi." 

"  Well,"  sighed  Thatcher — and  his  face 
wore  a  look  of  disappointment  that  was 
pathetic — "  there  is  one  thing  left.  We 
can  go  through  these  atlases  and  com- 
pare our  chart  with  every  group  of  islands 
in  the  world." 

"  That  would  be  nonsense,"  I  replied, 
"and  no  one  but  a  crazy  man  would  think 
of  such  a  thing." 

"  I  don't  pretend  to  be  anything  else 
but  a  crazy  man  now,"  he  said. 

"  In  the  first  place,  that  atlas  or  any 
other  does  not  show  all  the  islands  of  the 
world.  It  could  not.  There  are  millions 
41 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

of  islands.  Every  river,  every  bay,  every 
shore  is  dotted  with  islands.  Many  are 
not  shown  on  any  map.  It  is  more  than 
likely  that  this  treasure  is  laid  away  in 
some  obscure  group  that  used  to  be  fre- 
quented by  pirates  and  sea-robbers.  I 
don't  know  what  we  can  do." 

"  I  know  what  we  won't  do,"  retorted 
Thatcher;  "we  won't  give  up — not  just 
yet,  at  least.  If  you  think  the  stuff  is 
hidden  on  an  island  that  used  to  be  fre- 
quented by  pirates,  I  am  willing  to  inves- 
tigate all  the  West  Indian  groups  and  all 
the  Louisiana  and  Florida  islands." 

"  Investigate?"  I  exclaimed. 

"  Not  personally,"  said  Thatcher.  "  I 
am  not  as  mad  as  that.  But  I'll  stay  here 
all  day  and  go  over  every  map  I  can  lay 
hold  of.  I  shall  then  at  least  have  the 
satisfaction  of  knowing  where  the  islands 
are  not,  even  if  I  don't  locate  them." 

I  could  not  stay  with  him,  because  I  had 

an  appointment  down  town.     I  would  not 
42 


INVESTIGATION   AND  SPECULATION 

have  stayed  with  him  if  I  could.  I  con- 
sidered his  scheme  rank  lunacy,  and  told 
him  so ;  but  Thatcher  was  not  to  be  dis- 
suaded. He  was  an  individual  of  unlim- 
ited determination  and  spasmodic  per- 
severance. If  this  latter  quality  had  been 
fixed  in  him,  Thatcher  would  have  been 
a  genius.  So  I  left  him  with  his  atlases, 
agreeing  to  meet  him  in  the  evening  at 
Chiffard's,  and  promising  to  fill  out  in  the 
meanwhile,  if  I  could,  the  half-burned  in- 
scription on  the  lower  part  of  the  chart, 
which  neither  of  us  had  attempted  to  de- 
cipher as  yet. 


CHAPTER  IV 
DEDUCTIONS    AND  CONCLUSIONS 

THE  labor  I  had  so  cheerfully  assumed 
proved  no  easy  task,  as  I  very  soon  dis- 
covered, and  I  spent  three  hours  of  the 
afternoon  in  partially  piecing  out  the  lines 
where  the  words  had  been  burned  away. 
I  did  not  expect  to  make  any  important 
discovery  by  doing  this,  but  I  wanted  to 
have  some  results  to  show  Carquemort  at 
dinner-time.  The  broken  sentence,  as  it 
appeared  on  my  copy  of  the  chart,  ran 

thus: 

Pour  trouver  la  each 
on  se  met  le  dos 
centre  le  mat 
Ton  marche 
directe  ver 
croix  sur  • 
44 


DEDUCTIONS  AND  CONCLUSIONS 

chiens  u 
de  25  pa 
la  pierr 
creuse 

The  result  of  my  labors  was  not  re- 
markably satisfactory,  but  when  the  time 
came  to  start  for  Chiffard's,  I  had  arranged 
the  sentence  in  this  fashion : 

Pour  trouver  la  cachetfe 

on  se  met  le  dos 

contre  le  mat  et  (?) 

Ton  marche  en  ligne  (?) 

directe  ven-  la 

croix  sur 

chiens  u 

de  25  pas 

la  pierir 

creuse 

To  be  sure,  I  had  added  but  a  few  let- 
ters, yet  I  felt  that,  little  as  this  was,  I  had 
accomplished  something.  There  could  be 
no  doubt  that  cachelte  was  the  word  indi- 
cated by  each,  or  that  ver  had  been  vers, 

45 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

pa  had  been/^^,  and/zV^-r  must  have  been 
pierre.  I  did  not  feel  so  sure  about  the 
insertion  of  the  words  en  ligne  at  the  end 
of  the  fourth  line,  or  the  article  la  at  the 
end  of  the  fifth ;  but  they  made  sense,  and 
that  was  something,  for  further  along  I 
could  not  make  any  sense  at  all.  Trans- 
lated, my  revised  version  read :  "  To  find 
the  hiding-place,  put  your  back  against 
the  mast  and  walk  in  a  straight  line  di- 
rectly towards  the  cross  on  ...  dogs  .  .  . 
25  steps  .  .  .  the  stone  .  .  .  dig." 

The  first  part  of  this,  of  course,  was 
plain — that  is,  it  was  plain  in  so  far  as, 
by  locating  the  hiding-place,  it  confirm- 
ed in  a  measure  the  statement,  made  in 
the  words  at  the  top  of  the  chart,  that 
there  was  treasure  concealed  somewhere 
on  the  island.  But  then,  again,  it  was 
not  plain  at  all,  for  the  directions  were 
exceedingly  vague,  and  I  could  not  help 
recalling  the  old  fable  of  the  three  wise 

men  who  rowed  to  the  middle  of  the  lake 
46 


DEDUCTIONS  AND  CONCLUSIONS 

and  there  threw  a  bag  of  gold  overboard, 
marking  the  spot  for  future  identification 
by  cutting  a  notch  in  the  side  of  their 
boat.  My  map-maker  had  apparently  lo- 
cated the  cachette  on  the  island  by  stand- 
ing with  his  back  to  the  mast  of  his  ship, 
and  Heaven  only  knows  where  the  ship 
was  anchored  or  how  the  tide  ran  at  the 
time  he  took  his  bearings.  This  was 
grievously  discouraging.  And  as  to  what 
"the  cross,"  "dogs,"  "25  steps,"  and 
"stone"  might  mean  I  could  not  dream. 
As  I  walked  through  Washington  Square 
and  let  the  cool  evening  breeze  blow 
across  my  feverish  forehead,  I  wondered, 
in  a  confused,  irrational  sort  of  way,  if  the 
witless  chart-makerhad  taken  his  line  from 
the  "mast"  of  a  ship  at  sea  to  a  "cross" 
on  shore,  where  there  was  a  pack  of 
"dogs"  standing  "25  steps"  from  some 
"  stone."  If  such  were  the  case,  even  with 
the  island  found,  we  should  have  a  merry 
time  searching  for  the  spot  to  "dig"  for 

47 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

the  cachette.  What  bitter,  bitter  irony  to 
invite  us  to  dig  on  such  slim,  idiotic,  worse 
than  useless  directions ! 

On  arriving  at  the  little  restaurant  in 
South  Fifth  Avenue,  I  found  Thatcher 
and  Carquemort  already  at  table.  So 
solemn  looked  Thatcher  that  there  was 
no  necessity  for  him  to  tell  me  his  search 
among  the  West  Indian  islands  had  been 
fruitless  ;  but  it  was  nevertheless  pleasing 
to  hear  him  report  his  failure  for  the  mere 
sake  of  enjoying  the  picturesqueness  of 
his  profanity.  Carquemort  had  been  sip- 
ping absinthe  all  the  afternoon — so  Chif- 
fard  told  us  later — and  was  in  sullen  mood. 
He  was  inclined  to  be  querulous,  where- 
fore Thatcher,  whose  temper  had  not  been 
improved  by  his  afternoon's  experience, 
ordered  him  to  be  quiet  and  bade  him 
dine,  that  he  might  be  the  better  possessed 
of  his  senses  when  Chiffard  should  join  us 
later. 

Madame  was  as  cordial  as  ever,  and  her 

4s 


DEDUCTIONS  AND  CONCLUSIONS 

cheery  announcement  to  her  spouse  of 
"ces  messieurs  sont  la"  rang  out  clearly 
through  the  room,  bringing  to  me  an 
assurance  of  gastronomic  consolation  at 
least.  But  the  accursed  chart  had  played 
sad  havoc  with  Chiffard's  nerves,  which, 
in  turn,  had  affected  his  culinary  prowess, 
for  I  think  he  never  cooked  a  worse  dinner 
in  his  life. 

The  editing  of  the  burned  portion  of 
the  chart,  insignificant  as  it  was,  seemed 
to  give  the  greatest  gratification  to  Carque- 
mort.  He  lost  every  vestige  of  sullenness 
in  his  examination  of  my  writing,  which 
he  could  not  any  more  read  than  if  it  had 
been  Syriac,  and  he  displayed  in  the  sub- 
sequent discussion  an  amount  of  intelli- 
gence and  reasoning  power  of  which  his 
previous  manner  had  not  led  us  to  believe 
him  capable.  His  chief  contribution  tow- 
ards the  unravelling  of  the  fragmentary 
directions  was  of  greater  importance  than 
it  appears  as  here  set  down.  I  was  revil- 

D  49 


FOUR  FOR  A   FORTUNE 

ing  the  maker  of  the  chart,  to  a  soft  ob- 
bligato  of  blasphemy  and  profanity  by 
Thatcher,  dwelling  particularly  upon  the 
fact  that  the  main  point  of  direction,  be- 
ing taken  from  a  movable  object,  was 
absolutely  useless,  when  Carquemort  re- 
marked : 

"  You  may  not  be  right.  It  is  possible 
that  the  mast  was  not  on  a  ship." 

"  Oh,  of  course,"  I  exclaimed,  petulant- 
ly, "  they  may  have  unstepped  their  mast 
and  stuck  it  in  the  sand,  and  they  may 
have  chained  their  dogs  to  the  stone  ;  but, 
confound  it,  all  that  is  not  probable." 

"  You  do  not  comprehend,"  objected 
Carquemort.  "  The  word  mat  in  French 
means  just  as  much  a  pole  on  land  as  a 
mast  on  a  vessel.  A  flag-pole  is  a  mat. 
Did  you  never  see  a  mat  de  cocagne  ?" 

Of  course  I  had  seen  a  mat  de  cocagne, 

and  many  a  time.     I  had  climbed  one  at 

the  Fete  de  Neuilly  in  the  good  old  days 

of  my  Franco -American   infancy,  and  I 

50 


DEDUCTIONS   AND  CONCLUSIONS 

wondered  I  had  not  recognized  all  along 
the  amphibiousness  of  the  term.  Yet 
there  was  consolation  in  the  fact  that  in 
days  of  old  wiser  heads  than  mine  had 
failed  at  the  egg  trick  until  Mr.  C.  Colum- 
bus came  along.  And  so  Carquemort  was 
our  Columbus,  and  the  foggy  atmosphere 
of  mystery  over  those  directions  became 
partially  cleared  away.  How  simple  the 
sentence  now  appeared :  "  To  find  the 
hiding-place,  put  your  back  against  the 
pole  and  walk  in  a  straight  line  directly 
towards  the  cross  on  ...  dogs  ...  25 
steps  .  .  .  the  stone  .  .  .  dig." 

"  But  confound  the  cross  on  the  dogs !" 
exclaimed  Thatcher.  "  What  on  earth  can 
be  the  connection  between  the  dogs  and 
the  cross?" 

"  There  must  be  some  connection,"  I 
said.  "And  yet  there  is  not  room  for 
more  than  one  or  two  words  at  the  end  of 
that  line.  We  shall  have  to  find  out  what 
they  are  before  we  can  go  much  further." 
51 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

And  so  we  puzzled  and  puzzled,  but 
our  labors  bore  no  fruit;  and  we  parted 
again,  weary  and  mentally  chafing,  hoping 
against  hope,  but  ever  strong  in  our  belief 
that  in  the  end  we  must  succeed.  As  the 
cynical  Thatcher  put  it,  this  was  a  miss- 
ing-word contest,  limited  to  four  compet- 
itors, with  a  prize  of  untold  sums  in  gold. 
And  so  we  kept  on  guessing. 


CHAPTER  V 
THE   FINGER   OF    FATE 

FOR  many  days  we  made  no  progress 
whatever,  and  almost  every  evening  we 
dined  at  Chiffard's.  Madame  made  little 
pretence  of  concealing  the  fact  that  she 
looked  upon  us  as  weak-minded  vision- 
aries, and  she  often  rated  her  husband 
severely.  But  the  petard  took  this  cen- 
sure meekly,  as  usual,  and  reserved  his 
explosions  for  Carquemort,  whose  funds 
were  rapidly  ebbing  low,  and  who  now 
threatened  to  become  a  charge  upon  his 
old  shipmate  of  the  Cuverville.  This 
serious  feature  of  the  situation  first  ap- 
pealed to  Thatcher.  He  had  overheard 
a  conversation  between  the  two,  and,  be- 
ing a  man  of  action  and  expedient,  he 

53 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

forthwith  asked  Carquemort  why  he  did 
not  find  work. 

"  I  am  only  fit  for  the  sea,"  he  replied, 
somewhat  sullenly. 

"  It  is  better  to  work  on  land  than  to 
starve,"  said  Thatcher,  sharply;  and  he 
followed  up  the  rebuke  by  offering  to  get 
him  a  place  down  town  somewhere. 

"What  is  the  good?"  retorted  Car- 
quemort. "  I  speak  but  few  words  of 
English  —  'Thank  you,'  'How  much?' 
'  Goddam !' — and  I  should  be  of  no  use 
to  journalists,  except  perhaps  to  furnish 
them  with  lies." 

Chiffard,  for  some  reason,  had  concluded 
that  Thatcher  and  I  earned  our  living  by 
the  pen.  He  always  spoke  of  us  as  "  ces 
messieurs  les  journalistes"  It  was  of  no 
importance  to  him,  of  course,  whether  we 
journalized  daily  or  merely  incidentally. 
In  his  eyes  we  were  members  of  that  vast 
craft  which  he  believed  could  make  or 
unmake  any  condition  of  affairs,  and  con- 

54 


THE  FINGER  OF  FATE 

sequently  we  commanded  his  admiration. 
It  was  for  this  reason,  we  afterwards 
learned,  that  he  urged  Carquemort  to 
take  us  into  his  confidence.  Chiffard 
felt  sure  we  could  help  the  man,  or  that 
if  we  could  not,  we  had  the  means  of 
reaching  others  who  might  be  able  to. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  neither  of  us  was 
in  any  way  connected  with  journalism. 
Thatcher  earned  his  daily  bread  in  the 
manufacture  and  sale  of  leather.  His 
father  had  grown  rich  in  the  Swamp,  and 
had  insisted  that  his  son,  upon  graduation 
from  college,  should  spend  a  certain  num- 
ber of  hours  daily  in  the  shadows  of  the 
great  arches  of  the  Bridge.  Thatcher  was 
a  good  business  man,  as  business  men  go, 
but  he  did  not  relish  the  odor  of  leather. 
He  unfortunately  got  printers'  ink  on  his 
fingers  at  New  Haven,  and  printers'  ink 
is  a  bacillus  which,  when  once  inoculated 
into  the  blood,  can  never  be  purged  from 
the  system. 

55 


FOUR   FOR   A  FORTUNE 

Thatcher,  however,  did  not  neglect  his 
duties  for  all  that,  and  while  he  wrote 
occasionally,  and  spent  much  more  of  his 
time  with  men  of  Bohemian  instinct  than 
he  did  at  the  Hide  and  Leather  Club, 
where  the  members'  shoes  fairly  creaked 
with  quotations,  he  never  considered  him- 
self in  any  sense  of  the  word  a  man  of 
letters.  He  used  to  refer  to  himself  as  a 
"  rank  outsider,  worshipping  at  the  shrine 
of  the  Muses,  with  his  feet  mired  from 
traffic  in  the  Swamp." 

As  for  myself,  I  had  not  been  connected 
with  a  newspaper  for  eight  years  when  we 
fell  foul  of  Carquemort,  although  I  had 
never  let  my  pen  grow  rusty. 

Thus  it  was  that  although  Carquemort 
could  truly  be  of  no  service  in  literature, 
he  might  prove  useful  in  leather,  and 
Thatcher  persuaded  him  to  take  a  place, 
temporarily  at  least,  as  porter  in  the  house 
of  Thatcher  &  Co.,  Cliff  Street.  This  was 
cheering  news  to  Chiffard ;  it  was  profit- 
56 


THE   FINGER  OF  FATE 

able  for  Carquemort,  and  in  the  end  the 
seaman  proved  serviceable  in  his  adopt- 
ed sphere  in  spite  of  occasional  surliness 
brought  on  by  bad  whiskey,  which  the 
truckmen  of  the  Swamp  soon  taught  him 
to  like. 

Carquemort's  humiliating  career  as  a 
landsman,  however,  did  not  last  long.  I 
believe  he  served  the  house  of  Thatcher 
&  Co.  just  three  weeks  in  all,  and  then 
that  moment  came  which  formed  an  epoch 
in  the  lives  of  all  four  of  us,  and  which  I 
look  upon  as  the  second  nail  in  the  coffin 
that  this  entire  treasure-hunting  incident 
ought  to  be  buried  in.  The  moment  was 
that  in  which  we  substantiated  the  mys- 
tery of  Carquemort's  chart.  It  came  about 
more  or  less  accidentally,  as  all  discoveries 
do,  no  matter  how  great  and  painstaking 
the  preliminary  labors  of  the  finite  mind 
may  have  been. 

It  is  with  no  desire  for  taking  any  credit 
upon  myself,  but  for  the  sake  of  making 

57 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

my  story  complete,  that  I  give  the  incident 
of  discovery  in  detail.  It  happened  on  a 
Sunday  afternoon  in  June.  We  had  been 
puzzling  over  the  half-burned  sentence  for 
an  hour  or  more,  just  as  we  had  puzzled 
over  it  for  days  and  days  previously,  and 
with  no  better  success  ;  and  Thatcher  had 
embroidered  his  conversation  with  more 
than  his  usual  allowance  of  anathemas 
for  the  chart  and  the  man  who  burned  it. 
The  knotty  problem  we  had  never  been 

able  to  solve  was  the  connection  between 

• 

croix  and  chiens,  but  on  this  day  these 
words  became  the  key  to  the  whole  situ- 
ation. 

"  We  have  gone  over  this  so  many 
times,"  I  was  saying  to  him,  "that  I  am 
sick  of  it.  I  am  beginning  to  feel  that 
even  millions  would  scarcely  be  sufficient 
wage  for  the  gray  matter  I  am  daily  wast- 
ing in  this  investigation  ;  but  I  am  willing 
to  keep  at  it  a  little  longer,  only  I  am  going 

at  the  thing  now  in  a  different  way." 

58 


THE  FINGER  OF  FATE 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  found  a  new  way," 
commented  Thatcher,  somewhat  hope- 
lessly. "  What  is  it  ?" 

"  It  is  this,"  I  went  on.  "  We  have 
made  sense  out  of  the  words  up  to  a 
point  where  the  cross  gets  mixed  up  with 
the  dogs.  Now  let  us  get  every  bit  of 
sense  and  make  every  kind  of  deduction 
we  can  from  what  is  left.  It  really  does 
not  make  much  difference  what  we  de* 
duce  or  how  extravagant  we  are ;  it  is 
better  than  merely  staring  at  the  chart." 

"  Go  ahead,"  grunted  Thatcher. 

"  We  know,  in  the  first  place,  that  there 
is  an  island — in  fact,  several  islands,  but 
we  are  onlv  interested  in  one  of  them. 

j 

We  know  that  somewhere  on  this  particu- 
lar island  there  is  (or  was)  a  pole  or  mast, 
possibly  a  flag-staff.  We  know  further 
that  there  is  also  on  the  island  a  hiding- 
place,  possibly  a  cave,  more  likely  a  hole, 
because  the  word  creuse  implies  that,  the 
hiding-place  once  found,  we  must  dig. 

59 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

We  know,  too,  that  there  is  a  cross  on 
the  island,  and  possibly  there  are  dogs. 
The  cross  is  the  point  at  which  we  first 
stick." 

"  And  where  we  have  stuck  for  a  month," 
said  Thatcher. 

"  Well,  then,  let  us  see  what  we  can  do 
with  that  cross.  It  was  evidently  a  land- 
mark, or  the  writer  of  the  chart  could  not, 
and  probably  would  not,  have  used  it  as 
a  basic  point.  It  may  be  a  cross  on  a 
church,  or  it  may  be  stuck  up  in  the 
ground.  It  must  certainly  have  been  in 
plain  sight  when  these  words  were  writ- 
ten. So  it  seems  to  me  we  want  to  look 
for  an  island  where  there  is  a  church  or 
a  cross." 

"  There  is  probably  a  cross  on  every 
inhabited  civilized  island,"  said  Thatcher. 

"  That  is  possible ;  but  don't  look  at 
it  from  such  a  discouraging  stand-point. 
Let  us  rather  see  if  we  cannot  deduce 

something  further  from  the  cross." 
60 


THE   FINGER   OF  FATE 

"  You  have  deduced  a  church,"  ob- 
served Thatcher. 

"  Yes,  I  have  deduced  a  church.  A 
church  with  a  cross  on  it  would  presum- 
ably be  a  Catholic  church.  Therefore 
the  church  is  in  a  Catholic  community, 
and  if  we  accept  that  deduction  we  bar 
out  all  desert  islands  and  all  islands  in 
strictly  Protestant  countries." 

"  For  the  sake  of  argument,  let  it  go  at 
that,"  said  Thatcher.  "  But  suppose  the 
cross  is  not  on  a  church.  You  started 
by  saying  it  might  be  on  a  steeple,  or  it 
might  be  sticking  up  out  of  the  ground." 

"  If  it  were  an  isolated  cross  stuck  into 
the  ground,  it  must  surely  be  in  a  Cath- 
olic country,"  I  argued.  "  I  remember 
distinctly  a  great  crucifix  on  top  of  the 
cliffs  at  T  report,  where  I.  spent  one  sum- 
mer as  a  boy.  It  stands  high  above  the 
village,  facing  seaward,  and  the  fishermen 
look  to  it  as  a  sort  of  mute  guardian  of 
their  interests.  Now  that  I  think  of  it, 

61 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

it  seems  to  me  I  never  was  in  a  French 
seaport  town  that  did  not  have  such  a 
crucifix  standing  on  some  conspicuous 
height  overlooking  the  harbor  and  the 
sea." 

"  Then  you  deduce  from  that,"  said 
Thatcher,  somewhat  ironically,  "  that  on 
one  of  the  islands  is  located  a  French 
seaport  town,  with  a  tall  crucifix  over- 
looking the  sea?" 

"  That  is  not  so  very  illogical,"  I  an- 
swered, calmly  ;  and  I  felt  a  peculiar  thrill 
rising  within  me. 

"  It  is  not  impossible,  of  course,"  re- 
sumed Thatcher,  more  seriously.  "  It  is 
a  new  line  for  us  to  work  on,  at  any  rate. 
And,  after  all,  why  should  not  this  be  a 
French  island  ?  The  chart  is  French ; 
the  writing  on  it  is  French.  I  wonder 
we  did  not  think  of  this  before !" 

He  seemed  to  become  suddenly  affect- 
ed by  the  excitement  that  was  brewing 

in  me.     He  rose  hurriedly  from  his  chair 
62 


THE  FINGER  OF   FATE 

and  leaned  over  the  tracing  of  the  map 
that  lay  on  the  table. 

"By  gad!"  he  cried,  "we  may  have 
struck  it  at  last !  Let's  go  somewhere !" 

"  Go  somewhere  ?"  I  repeated.  "  Where  ? 
Where  can  we  go  to-day?  It  is  Sunday. 
Libraries,  like  saloons,  are  closed  on  Sun- 
day in  New  York.  We'll  have  to  wait 
until  to-morrow.  How  foolish,  after  all, 
to  get  so  excited  over  this  now !" 

"  Excited  ?  I  have  not  been  myself  since 
I  first  saw  that  chart!"  cried  Thatcher. 
"  Come  !  it's  French.  Let's  go  to  some 
French  place.  We  might  find  somebody 
who  knows.  Let's  go  to  the  Martin." 
And  before  I  could  realize  it,  Thatcher 
had  his  hat  and  coat  on  and  had  started 
down  the  stairs. 

I  followed  him,  and  in  a  few  moments 
we  were  at  the  Hotel  Martin.  It  is  a 
quiet  place  of  a  Sunday,  with  the  shades 
pulled  well  down,  and  peculiar- looking, 
bearded  Frenchmen,  endimanch'es,  sitting 
63 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

about  at  the  marble-topped  tables  of  the 
cafe  absorbing  rainbow  drinks.  We  sat 
with  the  rest,  and  Thatcher  asked  the 
waiter  if  he  did  not  have  some  sort  of  a 
directory  of  French  towns  and  cities  that 
we  could  look  at.  The  waiter  said  there 
was  indeed  such  a  book,  but  it  was  chained 
to  the  desk  in  the  office.  So  we  perforce 
sought  the  book,  inasmuch  as  it  could  not 
be  brought  to  us,  and  we  found  it  to  be 
exactly  what  we  could  have  wished  for. 
It  was  a  directory  of  France  and  of  all 
her  colonies,  with  maps  of  the  Repub- 
lic's foreign  possessions  and  diagrams  of 
many  of  the  principal  cities. 

I  shall  not  dwell  upon  the  excitement 
of  the  moments  we  spent  in  looking 
through  that  thick,  canvas-bound  volume. 
We  were  as  famished  ones  who  sought 
for  stray  crumbs  that  might  have  rested 
between  the  leaves ;  and  when  we  had 
come  to  the  end  of  our  search,  having 
found  nothing  along  the  line  of  our  in- 
64 


"WE  HAVE   STRUCK   IT   AT   LAST!"   HE   CRIED 


THE   FINGER  OF  FATE 

vestigation,  we  closed  the  big  book  re- 
signedly, and  the  chain  rattled  disconso- 
lately against  the  wall.  Thatcher  went 
across  the  room  and  gazed  out  of  the 
window  into  the  silent  street,  and  I  stood 
leaning  on  the  desk  in  despair.  After  a 
few  moments,  in  a  purely  mechanical  way, 
I  began  fingering  the  leaves  again,  and 
looking  at  the  maps  and  reading  the  cu- 
rious French  names ;  and  soon  I  came  to 
a  picture  of  a  group  of  islands  in  almost 
every  respect  like  any  other  picture  in  the 
book,  and  I  paid  no  attention  to  the  name 
printed  in  big  letters  at  the  top  of  the 
page;  but  my  eye  caught,  and  held,  as 
an  anchor  fastens  to  the  rocky  sea-bed, 
upon  the  words "//£  aux  Chiens"  Then  I 
looked  again,  and  I  saw  that  the  group 
was  an  enlarged  counterpart  of  Carque- 
mort's  chart,  and  the  name  of  the  place 
as  printed  in  the  book  was  "lies  Saint 
Pierre  Miquelon" 

At  the  top  of  my  voice  I  shouted,  and 

E  65 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

Thatcher  rushed  to  my  side  and  savagely 
seized  the  book,  so  that  the  chain  snapped 
from  its  fastening ;  and  in  our  bewilder- 
ment we  dropped  the  volume,  and  it  was 
seconds  before  we  could  find  the  place 
again. 

Well,  briefly,  we  had  discovered  the 
group  we  were  looking  for.  The  islands 
of  St.  Pierre  Miquelon,  off  the  south  coast 
of  Newfoundland,  in  longitude  56°  20 
west  and  latitude  47°  4'  north,  were  the 
ones  traced  on  the  chart,  and  across  each 
islet  of  the  four  was  written  its  name — 
St.  Pierre,  Grande  Miquelon,  Petite  Mique- 
lon, He  aux  Chiens — and  the  word  Chiens 
was  no  longer  a  mystery  and  a  stumbling- 
block.  It  did  not  now  take  us  long  to  fill 
in  the  words  that  had  been  destroyed  in 
the  burning  of  Carquemort's  paper,  and 
here  is  what  we  made  out,  the  italics  be- 
ing our  additions : 

Pour  trouver  la 
on  se  met  le  dos 
66 


THE  FINGER  OF  FATE 

centre  le  mat  et 
Ton  marche  en  ligne 
directe  verr  la 
croix  sur  file  aux 
chiens  \\ne  distance 
de  25  pas 
la  piern? 
creuse 

The  name  of  the  group  we  set  down  on 
our  paper  thus : 

1LES 

SAINT  PIERRE 

T&IQUELON, 

and  gurgled  hysterically  at  the  reminis- 
cence of  our  past  futile  efforts. 

There  was  high  revelry  at  Chiffard's 
that  Sunday  evening,  and  I  have  never 
seen  man  so  drunk  as  Carquemort.  Ma- 
dame left  us  early,  and  Chiffard  put  up 
the  shutters  and  turned  the  kev  on  the 

•/ 

public,  revelling  himself  with  his  allies  in 
the  little  dining-room.     There  was  a  vast 

67 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

amount  of  words  wasted  that  night  to 
small  profit  in  the  morning,  and  much 
good  liquor  sunk  beneath  palates  that 
were  numb  to  discrimination. 


CHAPTER  VI 
A    PECULIAR    PARTNERSHIP 

IT  was  now  July,  a  favorable  season  for 
a  voyage  to  the  North,  and  we  solaced 
ourselves  with  the  reflection  that  even  if 
the  chart  and  the  gold  and  all  the  rest 
of  it  were  a  hoax,  the  trip  to  the  isl- 
ands might  alone  be  worth  the  candle. 
The  colony  of  St.  Pierre  Miquelon  has  a 
name  for  loneliness  and  barrenness,  and 
Thatcher  felt  that  if  the  quest  proved 
futile,  and  if  all  else  went  awry,  he  could 
at  least  find  some  secluded  spot  up  there 
where  he  might  soundly  thrash  Carque- 
mort;  and,  next  to  finding  the  gold,  to 
thrash  Carquemort  seemed  to  be  Thatch- 
er's chief  desire. 

Our  preparations  were  rapidly  and  ea- 
69 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

sily  made.  There  was  nothing  to  keep  me 
in  town,  and  Thatcher  found  little  trouble 
in  arranging  for  a  more  or  less  indefinite 
absence  from  the  leather  business  during 
the  dull  summer  months.  Carquemort,  of 
course,  had  no  other  object  in  life ;  but 
with  poor  Chiffard  it  was  another  matter. 
He  had  to  go  through  a  stormy  session 
with  Madame  before  he  felt  certain  of  his 
plans,  and  even  so  he  secured  her  final 
indorsement  only  by  deeding  to  her  what 
small  property  he  had,  and  by  withdraw- 
ing all  his  savings  from  the  bank  and  turn- 
ing them  over  to  his  wife.  This  money 
she  took  and  at  once  deposited  in  another 
savings-bank,  in  her  own  name,  and  there- 
upon called  her  husband  again  a  fool,  and 
vowed  that  if  he  still  wished  to  go  upon 
the  career  of  a  wild  ass  and  have  himself 
shipwrecked,  or,  at  best,  waste  his  time 
instead  of  attending  to  his  legitimate  and 
proper  business,  which  was  to  make  the 
cooking  in  their  little  basement,  he  was 
70 


A  PECULIAR  PARTNERSHIP 

free  to  do  so,  for  all  of  her,  and  the  sooner 
he  rid  the  place  of  the  canaille  that  had 
caused  all  the  trouble  the  better  would  she 
be  pleased.  As  for  ourselves,  we  were 
glad  that  Chiffard  was  so  anxious  to  go 
along,  for  we  felt  sure  of  his  devotion,  and 
welcomed  it  as  a  counterpoise  to  an  un- 
stable confidence  in  Carquemort ;  and,  be- 
sides, as  Thatcher  aptly  put  it,  it  is  never 
inconvenient  to  have  a  good  cook  at  hand. 
It  had  been  agreed  among  us  before  we 
separated  on  that  riotous  Sunday  night — 
or  Monday  morning,  more  likely  —  that 
Thatcher  and  I  should  make  such  ar- 
rangements as  we  thought  best  for  our 

o  o 

voyage.  We  had  anticipated  no  diffi- 
culty here,  but  we  soon  discovered  that 
there  was  not  a  steamship  man  or  a  ticket- 
agent  in  all  New  York  who  could  tell  us 
exactly,  or  even  approximately,  how  to 
reach  St.  Pierre.  Even  at  Cook's  they 
had  never  heard  of  the  place,  and  the 
clerk  we  questioned  stared  at  us  as  if  he 
71 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

believed  we  were  daft  when  we  told  him 
we  wanted  to  make  a  pleasure  trip  in  that 
direction.  He  almost  insisted  upon  sell- 
ing us  tickets  to  St.  Pierre  Martinique ! 

Finally  it  occurred  to  Thatcher,  the 
planner  of  the  quartet,  that  inasmuch  as 
we  had  gotten  our  initial  information  at 
the  Martin,  we  might  secure  even  more 
from  the  same  quarter,  should  we  go  about 
it  in  a  calmer  and  more  leisurely  manner 
than  we  had  on  our  last  visit  to  the  little 
hotel  in  University  Place.  And  again 
Thatcher  was  right.  We  found  a  man 
in  the  cafe  who  had  once  heard  of  St. 
Pierre  Miquelon,  and  he  saperlotte-z.&  vol- 
ubly at  the  reminiscence.  From  him  we 
learned  that  the  first  step  in  our  journey 
was  to  Halifax,  whence  frequent  steamers 
sail  for  Newfoundland,  and  some  of  these, 
our  friend  thought,  stopped  occasionally 
at  the  French  islands. 

That   was  the    best  we  could  do,  and 
accordingly,  the  four   of  us  —  Thatcher, 
72 


A  PECULIAR   PARTNERSHIP 

Carquemort,  Chiffard,  and  I — set  off  from 
New  York  for  Nova  Scotia  on  Monday 
morning,  July  22,  1894. 

The  last  few  days  preceding  our  de- 
parture had  been  spent  in  drawing  up 
certain  legal  documents,  and  these  were 
signed  on  Saturday  afternoon,  the  2Oth — 
Carquemort  making  an  anchor  as  his 
mark.  There  were  four  papers,  and  each 
of  us  adventurers  and  treasure  -  hunters 
retained  a  copy.  The  gist  of  the  for- 
mality was  to  the  effect  that  one  Car- 
quemort, seaman,  of  St.  Malo,  France, 
being  the  rightful  owner  and  possessor 
of  a  certain  chart,  which  apparently  des- 
ignated the  location  of  hidden  treasure, 
agreed  to  take  the  three  other  parties  to 
the  indenture  into  partnership  for  the 
purpose  of  obtaining  and  securing  the 
said  treasure.  Thatcher  and  I  bound  our- 
selves to  advance  money,  up  to  a  cer- 
tain amount,  with  which  to  pay  the  ex- 
penses of  the  expedition  —  this  advance 

73 


FOUR  FOR   A  FORTUNE 

to  be  repaid  from  whatever  treasure 
might  be  found.  After  the  settling  of 
this  obligation,  and  the  payment  of  all 
further  and  necessary  expenses,  it  was 
stipulated  that  the  remainder  of  the  treas- 
ure should  be  divided  equally  among  the 
four. 

It  is  plain  that  Thatcher  and  I  were 
taking  the  major  risk  in  this  venture  ; 
but  we  had  talked  the  matter  over  pretty 
carefully  before  we  made  the  proposition, 
and  the  amount  we  agreed  to  advance 
was  but  little  more  than  the  sum  of  what 
the  two  of  us  had  spent  during  a  six 
weeks'  vacation,  hunting  in  Colorado, 
the  previous  year.  In  this  manner  we 
soothed  our  consciences  and  drugged 
our  doubts,  and  we  juggled  figures  to  de- 
ceive our  saner  instincts.  Chiffard's  con- 
tribution to  the  partnership  may,  at  first 
thought,  seem  inconsequential  and  not 
sufficient  to  entitle  him  to  a  quarter- 
share  in  the  proceeds.  But  it  should  be 

74 


A  PECULIAR  PARTNERSHIP 

remembered  that  he  was  staking  more 
than  any  other  one  of  us  —  not  even  ex- 
cepting Carquemort;  and,  further,  we 
proposed  to  arrange  things  later  so  that 
he  should  fairly  earn  his  salt. 

My  desire,  from  the  start,  had  been 
to  charter  a  schooner  in  New  York,  or 
Boston,  or,  better  still,  Gloucester,  the 
home  of  the  bank  fishermen,  and  sail 
forth  upon  the  seas  towards  the  rocky 
shores  of  the  treasure-holding  islets,  like 
genuine  buccaneers,  with  Carquemort  as 
one  of  the  crew  and  Chiffard  as  steward. 
Both  were  seamen  born  and  bred,  and 
I'll  wager  no  better  cook  ever  stood  in  a 
galley.  But  Thatcher  objected.  He  was 
seething  with  impatience,  and  the  bare 
thought  of  calms  and  head  winds  thrust 
his  influence  in  favor  of  the  railroad — as 
far  as  Halifax,  at  least. 

There,  perhaps,  he  would  be  willing  to 
think  of  taking  a  schooner  and  of  giving 
Chiffard  a  chance  to  make  himself  useful. 

75 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

And  as  I  was  somewhat  impatient  my- 
self and  not  over  anxious  to  dwell  too 
many  days  on  what,  at  best,  must  be  a 
small  boat,  I  did  not  stand  out  any  too 
strongly  for  my  original  buccaneering 
proposition.  It  is  possibly  just  as  well, 
too,  that  I  did  not. 


CHAPTER   VII 
A  MOVE    IN   THE    RIGHT   DIRECTION 

WE  arrived  at  Halifax  on  the  24th  of 
July,  and  my  first  impressions  of  the  city 
are  still  somewhat  confused.  They  con- 
sist mainly  of  a  swarm  of  howling  hack- 
men,  and  of  a  long,  narrow  street  that 
runs  apparently  straight  up  into  the  air, 
the  houses  on  either  side  clinging  to  the 
sidewalks  by  some  incomprehensible  eva- 
sion of  the  laws  of  gravity,  doubtless 
peculiar  to  the  locality.  We  struggled 
up  this  painfully  steep  street,  Chiffard 
bending  under  the  weight  of  our  valises 
(which  were  certainly  not  included  in  the 
dispensation  that  seemed  to  favor  the 
houses),  and  found  our  way  to  a  comfort- 
able hostelry,  where  we  rested  and  were 

77 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

refreshed.  Our  Frenchmen  we  sent  to 
an  humble  lodging.  Rid  of  their  encum- 
brance, we  breathed  more  easily,  and  set 
out  to  walk  about  the  town  in  quest  of 
such  knowledge  as  the  Nova  Scotians 
might  have  to  offer. 

It  was  early  afternoon  and  the  streets 
were  thronged — so  many  soldiers  I  had 
not  seen  in  one  day  for  years — and  in  our 
delight  over  the  novelty  of  the  sights  of  a 
foreign  city,  we  set  our  hopes  and  anxie- 
ties momentarily  behind  us  and  enjoyed 
life  to  its  fullest  extent.  Thatcher,  espe- 
cially, seemed  to  delight  in  the  red  coats 
and  the  pacing  sentries,  and  he  kept  im- 
pressing upon  me  that  these  were  genuine 
soldiers — his  antipathy  being  the  militia. 
We  met  Mr.  Tommy  Atkins  on  every 
block,  and  a  fine-looking  young  fellow  he 
was — with  his  clear  complexion,  his  broad 
shoulders  well  displayed  in  his  scarlet 
tunic,  his  lozenge  -  shaped  Scotch  cap 
cocked  jauntily  over  his  right  ear,  and 
78 


A   MOVE  IN  THE   RIGHT  DIRECTION 

his  short  bamboo  swagger-stick  swinging 
loosely  in  his  gloved  hand !  He  looked 
neat  and  clean,  too,  and  bore  himself  as 
if  he  were  not  ashamed  of  his  calling 
and  were  proud  of  the  Queen's  uniform. 
And,  walking  arm  in  arm  with  him,  or 
with  a  blue -jacket  from  the  harbor,  went 
the  heavy -artillery  man,  clanking  along 
the  narrow  pavement  with  sabre  and 
spurs,  gaudy  in  red  and  yellow  trappings, 
and  comical  with  his  pill-box  cap  set  at 
a  thrilling  angle.  The  first  hour  of  this 

o          o 

sort  of  thing  affected  us  much  as  if  we 
had  strayed  into  an  opera-bouffe  rehearsal 
(and  the  Halifax  houses  helped  out  the 
illusion,  for  they  look  like  old  scenery) ; 
but  after  a  while  we  grew  accustomed  to 
all  this  scarlet  and  gold,  and  soon  did 
not  even  turn  our  heads  when  we  passed 
a  pompous  sergeant  with  his  brilliant 
chevrons  and  purple  sash. 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  Thatcher,  as  the 
conversation  fell  back  to  the  topic  upper- 

79 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

most,  after  all,  in  our  minds, "  I  think  it  is 
time  we  began  taking  some  precautions. 
Here  we  are  off  for  an  out-of-the-way  and 
almost  unheard-of  place  after  treasure,  ac- 
companied by  a  French  cook  and  by  as 
tough  a  customer  as  you  could  find  any- 
where on  Montmartre.  Doesn't  such 
a  combination  appeal  to  you  as  unu- 
sual?" 

"  That  last  feature  you  mention  of  the 
situation  is  certainly  sufficient  to  arouse 
suspicion  in  the  mind  of  almost  any  one," 
I  admitted. 

"  Exactly.  That's  why  I  think  we  ought, 
so  far  as  possible,  to  keep  dark  our  rela- 
tions with  Chiffard  and  the  villain.  That 
was  my  principal  reason  for  wanting  to 
put  them  off  under  a  different  roof." 

"  Yes ;  but,  after  all,  I  don't  know  that 
it  makes  much  difference  so  long  as  we 
are  going  to  sail  directly  from  here  in  our 
own  chartered  schooner." 

"  Perhaps  we  shall  not  do  that.     I  am 
80 


A  MOVE   IN   THE   RIGHT  DIRECTION 

not  by  any  means  convinced  of  that's  be- 
ing the  best  plan.  Are  you  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  am,  but  we  haven't 
anything  better  in  view  just  now.  Let's 
go  down  to  the  docks  and  see  what  we 
can  find  in  the  way  of  a  schooner." 

"  We  can  spend  our  time  to  better  ad- 
vantage, I  think,"  said  Thatcher.  "  While 
you  were  pigeon-holing  the  crew  and  the 
cook,  I  was  talking  to  a  number  of  Nova 
Scotian  idiots  around  the  hotel.  I  never 
struck  a  town  where  the  average  of  infor- 
mation was  so  low ;  nevertheless,  I  man- 
aged to  worm  out  something.  I  posed 
as  a  '  journalist ' — bad  cess  to  the  word ! — 
on  my  way  up  to  St.  Pierre  to  'write  up' 
the  place  for  a  syndicate,  and — would  you 
believe  it  ? — the  first  three  men  I  braced 
did  not  know  there  were  any  such  islands 
on  the  face  of  the  sea.  Finally,  however,  I 
found  a  fellow  in  the  bar  who  told  me  that 
Madden  &  Maddigan  are  the  agents  for 
a  steamship  which  boasts  the  name  La 

F  8l 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

Patrie,  that  runs  up  to  the  Miquelon  Isl- 
ands every  two  weeks.  Well,  sir,  I  was 
so  tickled  at  getting  on  some  kind  of  a 
trail  that  I  blew  that  fellow  off  to  three 
Scotch  whiskeys  in  about  as  many  min- 
utes, and  you  never  saw  so  astonished  a 
Nova  Scotian  in  your  life.  So  I  want  to 
look  up  Madden  &  Maddigan,  and  if  the 
cretin  who  directed  me  knew  what  he  was 
talking  about,  we  ought  to  be  somewhere 
near  their  shop  now." 

But  the  said  cretin,  like  the  majority  of 
his  race  whom  it  was  our  fortune  to  meet 
in  Halifax,  had  put  us  on  the  wrong  scent, 
and,  after  walking  around  in  a  circle  for 
some  time,  we  ended  up  by  chartering  a 
conveyance,  in  which  we  rode  for  half  an 
hour  before  the  driver  found  any  one  who 
knew  enough  to  tell  him  where  Madden 
&  Maddigan's  was.  At  the  end  of  that 
time  we  wandered  into  a  narrow,  roughly 
paved  street,  and  drew  up  before  a  clean- 
looking  stone  building  of  very  modest 
82 


A  MOVE   IN  THE  RIGHT  DIRECTION 

appearance,  and  over  the  low  doorway 
hung  the  anchored  sign  of  Madden  & 
Maddigan. 

"  Now,  mind  you,"  said  Thatcher,  as  he 
jumped  out  of  the  rickety  caleche,  "we 
are  tourists — you  and  I,  two  of  us  only; 
you  artist,  I  writer — and  we  want  to  go 
to  St.  Pierre.  Let  me  do  the  talking,  and 
be  sure  you  back  me  up  in  all  I  say." 

Before  I  could  expostulate,  he  had 
pushed  open  the  glass  door  of  the  low- 
ceilinged  shipping-office  and  was  leaning 
expectantly  upon  the  polished  counter. 
A  clerk  crawled  out  from  behind  a  desk 
as  we  entered  and  stared  at  us  with  the 
imbecilic  expression  we  were  rapidly  be- 
coming accustomed  to  —  an  expression 
which  Thatcher  characterized  as  "  the 
codfish  face."  When  we  told  him  we 
wanted  to  find  out  about  transportation 
to  St.  Pierre,  a  momentary  gleam  of  in- 
telligence seemed  to  appear  in  his  eyes, 
as  if  at  some  remote  period  he  had  heard 
33 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

the  name  of  the  place;  and  then  he  re- 
lapsed codfishy  and  said  La  Patrie  sailed 
in  a  few  days,  but  would  not  go  to  St. 
Pierre  this  trip.  We  attacked  him  from 
all  points  of  the  compass,  and  tried  to 
confound  his  crass  ignorance  of  his  own 
business,  hoping  the  man  might  unwit- 
tingly deliver  himself  of  some  useful  fact ; 
but  all  in  vain.  Then  we  asked  if,  per- 
haps, a  member  of  the  firm  were  in.  Yes, 
Colonel  Madden  was  in. 

"  Thank  Heaven  for  that !"  muttered 
Thatcher. 

We  were  invited  into  a  rear  office,  where 
we  met  a  tall,  loosely-built,  military-look- 
ing man  with  a  fine  face,  sunburned  all 
over,  except  for  a  scallop  over  his  right 
eye,  where  his  little  pill-box  artilleryman's 
cap  had  protected  a  circle  some  three 
inches  in  diameter  from  the  effects  of 
sun  exposure  during  a  week  in  camp.  To 
our  unspeakable  delight,  Colonel  Mad- 
den could  tell  us  just  what  we  wanted  to 


A   MOVE  IN  THE   RIGHT  DIRECTION 

know — and  he  did,  too.  We  found  we 
could  go  by  steamship  more  or  less  di- 
rectly to  our  destination,  or  we  could  go 
by  rail  as  far  as  Sydney,  at  the  extremity 
of  Cape  Breton,  and  thence  take  the  same 
steamer  to  St.  Pierre.  He  informed  us 
thoroughly  concerning  prices  and  time, 
and  even  of  the  manners  and  customs  of 
the  folk  we  were  going  to.  The  one  point 
he  could  not  make  clear  —  and  that  to 
himself — was  why  we  should  ever  want 
to  go  to  Miquelon.  Thatcher  attempted 
to  satisfy  his  curiosity  on  that  point,  but 
even  his  glowing  fiction  and  wild  rhetoric 
failed  to  convince  or  enlighten  the  good 
Colonel,  and  he  doubtless  looks  upon  us 
to  this  day  as  harmless  lunatics.  Never- 
theless, he  offered  to  do  everything  he 
could  for  us  if  we  should  choose  to  go  on 
his  ship,  and  he  convinced  us  of  his  good- 
will by  taking  us  into  his  club. 

Over  our    pipes,  after  supper,  we  dis- 
cussed our  plans  more  comprehensively 
85 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

in  the  light  of  the  important  informa- 
tion obtained  from  Colonel  Madden.  We 
came  to  the  conclusion,  after  very  short 
consideration,  that  such  a  quartet  as  we 
were  would  possibly  cause  some  com- 
ment if  we  were  known  to  be  travelling 
together,  and  we  soon  agreed  that  it 
would  be  far  better  if  Chiffard  and  Car- 
quemort  could  make  their  way  indepen- 
dently to  St.  Pierre,  and  meet  us  on  the 
islands.  The  trouble  would  be  in  per- 
suading the  Frenchmen  of  this.  We 
both  felt  that  Carquemort  was  already 
becoming  restless  at  the  way  in  which 
we  were  conducting  the  expedition,  dis- 
regarding him  entirely  and  proceeding 
along  the  line  of  our  best  judgment.  He 
had  not  complained,  to  be  sure;  but  for 
the  past  few  days — in  fact,  from  the  hour 
we  left  New  York — the  man  had  been  si- 
lent and  morose.  Chiffard,  who  was  most 
with  him,  had  commented  to  us  upon  it ; 
and  we  had  also  overheard  him  say  to 

86 


A  MOVE  IN  THE   RIGHT  DIRECTION 

Carquemort  one  night  that  he  would 
rather  travel  around  the  world  with  a 
mangy  dog  than  go  a  day's  journey  with 
such  a  sullen  beast  as  he.  And  Carque- 
mort had  made  no  reply ;  so  we  held  the 
opinion  that  he  was  in  drink — but  whence 
he  got  the  money  to  pay  for  his  sullenness 
we  could  not  guess. 

After  a  protracted  session,  we  con- 
cluded that  our  best  plan,  and  the  swift- 
est, would  be  for  the  four  of  us  to  go  by 
rail  to  North  Sydney,  in  Cape  Breton. 
Between  St.  Pierre  and  this  place  there 
is  a  lively  trade  in  coal  and  kindling- 
wood,  and  a  powerful  traffic  in  smuggling. 
We  believed  we  could  hire  a  schooner 
for  a  song  at  Sydney,  a  schooner  that 
had  run  in  the  smuggling  line,  if  possible, 
for  her  skipper  would  be  just  the  kind 
of  a  man  we  needed  for  the  business  in 
hand.  And  so  it  was  that  our  stay  in  Hal- 
ifax was  cut  shorter  than  we  had  antic- 
ipated; and  we  left  on  the  railroad  early 
87 


FOUR   FOR  A  FORTUNE 

in  the  morning  of  the  second  day  after 
we  had  fastened  upon  our  determination. 
The  time  intervening  we  spent  in  the 
purchase  of  spades  and  picks,  hammers 
and  chisels,  a  quantity  of  heavy  canvas 
sacks,  and  several  pounds  of  blasting 
powder  and  dynamite.  This  we  had 
some  trouble  in  securing ;  in  fact,  we 
feared  we  must  do  without.  But  Carque- 
mort,  when  we  had  failed,  took  our  money 
and  promised  to  secure  the  explosives. 
A  villain  himself,  he  must  have  dealt 
with  his  kind ;  for,  an  hour  later,  he  re- 
turned with  the  goods,  and  the  price  we 
paid  was  double  the  market  rate.  Wheth- 
er it  was  Carquemort  who  profited  by  this 
transaction,  it  is  difficult  to  say ;  but  from 
what  Chiffard  reported  the  next  morn- 
ing, Carquemort  was  far  from  sober  that 
night,  and  I  much  fear  he  led  the  cook 
beyond  temptation,  for  both  men  were 
sorry  passengers  on  the  shuffling,  colonial 
train  that  beautiful  July  day. 

88 


CHAPTER  VIII 
A    PLAN    OF   OPERATIONS 

THE  little  town  of  North  Sydney  nes- 
tles in  the  knee  of  a  deep  bay  on  the 
northeastern  coast  of  Cape  Breton,  and 
straggles  along  the  shore  in  a  single,  nar- 
row, ill-kept  street  that  lifts  itself  up  out 
of  the  coal-mines  near  the  hollow  of  the 
harbor  and  stretches  off  aimlessly  to  the 
northward  until  it  loses  itself  in  a  waste 
of  rocks  and  dwarf  pine.  Everything 
about  the  place  is  grimy  with  coal,  the 
air  is  heavy  and  soggy  with  fog,  and  all 
nature  seems  dull  and  gray.  The  chill 
sea -water  laps  mournfully  against  the 
sides  of  the  coaling  craft  that  lie  along 
the  shaky,  moss-grown  docks,  and  the  rat- 
tling of  pulleys,  the  creaking  of  derrick- 
89 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

booms,  the  groaning  of  steam  winches, 
with  every  now  and  then  the  hoarse  roar 
of  a  load  of  coal  dumped  from  a  trestle, 
make  the  only  sounds  that  cut  into  the 
bleak  and  melancholy  stillness  of  the 
place. 

It  was  night  when  we  came  to  Sydney 
— black,  misty  night,  and  the  trees  drip- 
ped in  the  darkness.  By  the  grace  of  a 
small  native  with  a  lantern,  we  felt  our 
way  slowly  and  with  an  ungovernable 
sense  of  apprehension  through  the  stubble 
fields  that  separate  the  terminus  of  the 
railroad  from  the  inhabited  quarter  of  the 
town.  Thatcher  carried  the  explosives, 
which  he  was  reluctant  to  intrust  even 
to  my  care,  and  Carquemort,  cursing, 
stumbled  along  in  the  murk  behind,  while 
Chiffard  clung  to  the  circle  of  the  lan- 
tern's rays,  ever  and  again  looking  back 
over  his  shoulder  towards  Thatcher  and 
his  death-dealing  burden.  The  dim  glare 

of  the  swinging  lantern  sent  our  shadows 
90 


A   SMALL   BOY   GUIDED   US  THROUGH   THE   DARKNESS 


A  PLAN  OF  OPERATIONS 

stalking  like  bodiless  giants  through  the 
last  patch  of  woods,  and  finally  we  turned 
into  the  silent  street.  Here  there  was 
scarce  more  light  than  in  the  by-ways,  a 
faint  beam  falling  across  the  ruts  here 
and  there  from  under  the  drawn  curtain 
of  some  sailors'  shore-side  tavern. 

The  boy  led  us  to  a  dingy,  unventilated 
inn,  that  backs  up  on  a  dock  and  boasts 
the  proud  name  "Hotel  des  Ambassa- 
deurs."  The  proprietor  welcomed  us  in 
a  sleepy,  unintelligent,  Nova  Scotian  fash- 
ion, but  he  earned  our  good-will  at  once 
by  defying  the  Scott  Act  without  further 
ceremony.  Our  walk  through  the  fog- 
laden  atmosphere  had  chilled  us  to  the 
marrow  —  and,  in  addition,  his  whiskey 
was  excellent.  We  marvelled  at  its  qual- 
ity and  commented  upon  it ;  but  our  host 
was  not  vainglorious.  Later  we  under- 
stood why,  and  wondered  we  had  not  sus- 
pected the  reason  from  the  first. 

The  proprietor's  name  was  Holtz,  or  at 
91 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

least  so  he  was  generally  called  by  his 
neighbors,  but  he  assured  us  over  the 
second  bottle  that  his  full  name  was 
Sammelholtz.  He  seemed  to  us  a  surly 
fellow  at  the  start,  but  developed  qualities 
as  the  bowl's  tide  ebbed.  In  spite  of  his 
increased  geniality  and  openness,  how- 
ever, we  never  quite  made  him  out.  He 
looked  like  a  Scotchman,  he  had  the 
Gaelic,  he  spoke  English  with  a  non- 
Scotch  accent,  he  had  a  German  name,  and 
he  claimed  to  be  French — backing  this 
.by  bawling  a  patois  at  Carquemort  and 
Chiffard.  But,  poor  devil !  no  wonder  he 
had  lost  his  identity,  living,  as  he  had  for 
years,  in  that  bleak  northern  hole  where 
winter  is  long  and  summer  but  a  mockery, 
and  life  altogether  a  dull,  beast-like  exist- 
ence at  best. 

Beyond  ourselves  there  seemed  to  be 
no  guests  at  the  Hotel  des  Ambassadeurs. 
Consequently  we  had  the  full  choice  of 

apartments,  and,  the  rates   being  cheap, 
92 


A  PLAN  OF  OPERATIONS 

Thatcher  and  I  each  took  a  room,  and 
we  packed  off  our  Frenchmen  to  a  cham- 
ber within  call,  at  the  end  of  the  narrow 
passageway.  So  constantly  were  we  now 
subject  to  the  spell  of  the  feverish  ex- 
citement of  our  enterprise  that  sleep  sat 
lightly  upon  our  eyes,  and  it  had  almost 
become  a  necessity  for  us  to  puff  at  our 
pipes  for  an  hour  or  more  each  night, 
and  talk,  talk,  talk — rehearsing  the  same 
hopes  and  reviewing  the  same  fears,  the 
whole  to  a  pepper-and-salt  flavoring  of 
international  profanity  by  Thatcher — be- 
fore we  could  compose  ourselves  for  a 
much-needed  repose. 

"  There  is  one  good  thing  about  that 
blackguard  Carquemort,"  said  Thatcher, 
as  we  conversed;  "  he  does  not  talk  about 
our  private  affairs,  no  matter  how  drunk 
he  may  be." 

"  He's  got  sense  enough  for  that,"  I 
said.  "  He  would  never  have  spoken  to 
us  in  Chiffard's  if  he  had  not  been  driven 

93 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

to  it  by  the  need  of  financial  aid.  Do 
you  think  we  made  a  mistake  in  letting 
Holtz  —  or  Sammelholtz,  or  whatever 
his  name  is  —  know  we  were  all  four 
together?" 

"  I  hardly  think  so,"  answered  Thatcher. 
"  I  rather  suspect  Holtz  is  a  bit  deep  him- 
self.  He  never  paid  duty  on  that  whis- 
key, or  he  could  not  sell  it  at  the  price 
he  does,  or  even  keep  it — in  such  a  hole 
as  this.  I  have  an  idea  we've  stumbled 
over  the  right  man  in  him.  He  may 
prove  of  considerable  service  to  us." 

"  I  hope  he  may.  We  might  enlist  his 
services  by  giving  him  the  impression 
that  we  are  up  to  some  sort  of  a  smug- 
gling scheme  —  which  in  reality  we  are. 
He  is  a  close  -  mouthed  customer  appar- 
ently. There  is  no  harm  in  sounding 
him." 

"  None  whatever.  He  may  be  just  the 
man  to  fit  out  our  expedition,  schooner 
and  all.  The  fellows  who  sailed  that 

94 


A  PLAN  OF  OPERATIONS 

whiskey  into  this  port  ought  to  be  availa- 
ble to  navigate  a  little  bullion  and  coin 
down  to  Boston  or  New  York." 

"So  you  still  consider  it  advisable  to 
get  our  schooner  here  and  invade  St. 
Pierre,"  I  said, "  rather  than  to  learn  first 
if  we  have  any  cargo,  and  hire  the  trans- 
port in  the  islands  afterwards?" 

"  By  all  means.  The  chances  are  we 
should  have  trouble  getting  a  boat  up 
there.  It's  a  very  small  place,  you  know, 
and  there's  a  governor,  with  a  garrison, 
and  paternal  government,  and  all  that 
sort  of  thing ;  and  French  law  claims 
half  of  treasure- trove  —  and  if  we  'trove' 
any,  you  can  bet  your  boots  we  are  not 
dividing  with  any  government !  We  are 
putting  the  stuff  aboard  ship  and  skip- 
ping for  home  as  tight  as  the  merry 
winds  will  blow  us !"  and  Thatcher  slap- 
ped his  knee  loudly  by  way  of  emphasis. 
"  I  don't  relish  the  idea,  however,  of  sail- 
ing up  to  those  islands  in  a  foul-smelling 

95 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

tub,  and  I  never  have  taken  much  to  that 
part  of  the  programme  since  it  was  first 
suggested." 

11 1  don't  relish  it  myself,"  I  admitted. 
"  But  I  think  we  ought  to  do  what  is  for 
the  best." 

"  So  do  I,  of  course,  but  I  doubt  if  it  is 
necessary  for  us  to  coop  ourselves  up  in 
any  schooner  just  yet.  We  can  just  as 
well  send  Chiffard  and  Carquemort  off 
on  the  boat  and  ourselves  seek  St.  Pierre 
by  steamer." 

Thatcher  was  warming  to  his  argu- 
ment. "  Any  schooner  we  get  must  have 
some  sort  of  excuse  for  putting  into  the 
port  of  St.  Pierre.  Coal  is  the  best  sub- 
terfuge we  can  adopt  in  these  parts. 
The  schooner  makes  St.  Pierre  with  her 
coal  and  kindling  and  the  skipper  gives 
out  that  he  wants  to  pick  up  a  cheap 
cargo  of  cod.  In  the  mean  time  you 
and  I,  artist  and  writer  again,  take  the 

good  La  Patrie,  which  touches  here  next 

96 


A  PLAN  OF  OPERATIONS 

Wednesday — you  heard  Holtz  say  so  to- 
night— and  land  comfortably  in  St.  Pierre. 
We  are  going  to  make  an  indefinite  stay 
in  the  colony;  we  take  up  our  lodgings 
in  some  quiet  neighborhood  where  we 
can  go  in  and  out  at  all  hours ;  we  hang 
around  the  docks  and  scrape  acquaintance 
with  the  fishermen  —  looking  for  '  local 
color,'  you  know.  In  this  way  we  make 
the  acquaintance  of  Chiffard  and  Carque- 
mort  and  of  the  other  thugs  we  shall  by 
that  time  have  in  our  employ,  and  we  at 
once  set  about  surveying  that  direct  line 
from  the  cross  on  the  He  aux  Chiens  to 
the  mast.  See  ?" 

"  All  that  sounds  very  well,"  I  said, 
"  but  how  about  putting  it  through  ?" 

"  We've  put  everything  through,  so  far, 
have  not  we  ?" 

I  was  forced  to  admit  that  we  had. 

"  Very  well,"  he  continued,  "  if  you  ap- 
prove of  this  now  I'll  see  that  it's  put 
through  if  I  have  to  knock  the  logic  of  it 

G  97 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

into  Carquemort  with  my  two  fists.  What 
do  you  say  ?" 

"  Amen !"  I  shouted. 

"  That  settles  it,  then,"  said  Thatcher, 
jumping  to  his  feet.  "  Take  one  more 
nip  of  Holtz's  best,  and  get  to  your 
dreams.  It  is  three  o'clock." 


CHAPTER  IX 
EXPLANATIONS    AND    NEGOTIATIONS 

THE  following  day  broke  clear  and 
fresh,  and  a  brisk  wind  from  the  east 
carried  the  odor  of  the  deep  sea  in  at  our 
windows.  We  looked  forth  into  the  glad 
morning  and  saw  the  sunlight  dancing  on 
the  quivering  waters  of  the  bay  like  the 
visions  of  gold  that  ceaselessly  twinkled 
in  our  own  minds.  Even  the  scraggy 
shores  back  of  South  Sydney,  opposite, 
looked  a  little  less  bleak  and  arid,  and 
here  and  there  a  tuft  of  verdure  forced 
itself  up  above  the  gray  monotone  of  the 
sky-line.  Distance  lent  beauty  to  the  mov- 
ing fishing  craft  in  the  harbor,  and  the  sight 
of  sails  inspired  us  to  renewed  activity. 

We  found  our  Frenchmen  below  and 

99 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

satiate,  and  when  ourselves  had  break- 
fasted the  four  of  us  gathered  in  one  of 
the  upper  rooms  and  opened  a  conference 
behind  bolted  doors.  Thatcher  unfolded 
in  detail  the  plan  he  had  roughly  outlined 
to  me  the  night  before,  and  Chiffard,  as 
the  more  intelligent  of  our  two  associ- 
ates, pronounced  at  once  in  favor  of  it. 
So  emphatic  was  his  approval  that  his 
fist  fairly  cracked  the  table-top,  and  the 
old  petard  spirit  rolled  out  in  cataractic 
French.  But  Carquemort  was  silent  and 
shifted  about  uneasily  in  his  chair. 

"  I  don't  like  this  separating  business," 
he  said,  finally.  "  We  are  all  four  to 
share  equally  in  the  benefits  of  the  treas- 
ure, and  it  seems  to  me  all  four  ought  to 
share  in  the  work." 

"  We  are,  none  of  us,  trying  to  shirk 
any  work,  Carquemort,"  I  returned,  sharp- 
ly. "  We  are  trying  to  arrange  matters 
so  that  the  French  authorities  will  not 
interfere  with  us." 

100 


EXPLANATIONS  AND  NEGOTIATIONS 

"  They  won't  interfere  with  us,"  he  re- 
torted, sullenly. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  if  we 
four,  with  perhaps  a  couple  of  men  addi- 
tional in  the  crew,  arrive  in  the  harbor 
of  St.  Pierre  on  a  coaling  schooner  with- 
out any  apparent  object  in  view,  with  no 
cargo  and  in  search  of  none,  the  author- 
ities would  not  at  once  be  suspicious  of 
such  actions  and  put  a  watch  on  us  ?" 

"  By  gad !"  cried  Thatcher,  "  they  never 
would  pick  us  for  a  combination  to  travel 
for  pleasure,  especially  in  the  tub  we'll 
be  able  to  get  here.  They'd  take  us  for 
smugglers — you  can  bet  your  share  on 
that !  —  and  the  first  thing  you'd  know 
they'd  have  us  all  in  the  jug !" 

Carquemort  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  If  your  head  is  too  thick  to  under- 
stand this,"  I  continued,  "you'll  have  to 
take  our  word  for  it — that's  all.  We've 
got  to  arrange  things  so  that  we  can  make 
our  surveys  and  searches  without  arous- 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

ing  any  one's  suspicions,  and  the  only 
way  to  do  that  is  to  adopt  Thatcher's 
plan,  or  something  like  it.  Can  you  sug- 
gest anything  better?" 

"  Yes !"  snorted  Chiff ard, "  sacrebleu,  can 
you  suggest  anything  better  ? — -fichu  cha- 
meau,  vas  /" 

Carquemort  scowled,  but  gave  no  direct 
reply.  Instead,  he  put  another  question  : 

"  If  we  find  the  gold,  then  what  ?" 

"  If  we  find  the  gold,  we  pack  it  aboard 
the  schooner." 

"All  of  it?" 

"  All  of  it,  of  course.  Do  you  suppose 
we're  going  to  leave  part  of  it  behind?" 

"  What  I  want  to  know  is  whether  all 
the  gold  comes  back  on  the  schooner,  or 
if  part  of  it  goes  back  on  the  steamship. 
If  it  does  not  all  go  on  the  schooner,  I— 

"  You  confounded  blockhead !"  inter- 
rupted Thatcher,  with  an  enforcement  of 
brutal  oaths  (for  he  had  found  that  such 
methods  worked  best  with  the  man),  "  how 


102 


EXPLANATIONS  AND  NEGOTIATIONS 

the  deuce  could  we  ship  gold  through  the 
regular  channels  without  the  fact  becom- 
ing known?  What  do  you  imagine  we 
should  want  to  take  a  schooner  over  there 
for  if  we  could  conceive  of  any  other  way 
of  getting  the  treasure  away  from  the  isl- 
ands secretly  ?" 

This  argument,  and  the  tone  of  its  de- 
livery, appeared  to  have  some  influence 
with  Carquemort,  for  he  looked  up  and 
asked : 

"  And  you  two  Americans  ?" 

"  What  about  us  ?" 

"  How  do  you  come  back  ?" 

"  You  can  bet  your  sweet  life  we  come 
back  with  the  gold !"  I  shouted.  And  so 
great  was  my  vehemence  that  the  other 
three  laughed  outright,  which  was  a  fort- 
unate thing,  for  this  unexpected  hilarity 
helped  considerably  to  clear  the  conver- 
sational atmosphere. 

It  was  curious  to  consider  how  we  had 

come  to  look  upon  the  existence  of  the 
103 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

treasure  as  a  certainty.  The  serious 
doubts  of  reasonable  and  right-minded 
men  which  we  had  formerly  held  con- 
cerning the  genuineness  of  the  chart  had 
now  vanished  altogether,  and  we  no  longer 
even  harbored  any  fears  lest  other  hunters 
or  chance  diggers  might  have  taken  the 
gold  from  its  hiding-place  years  ago.  The 
single  remaining  obstacle  which  we  rec- 
ognized in  our  speculations  and  discus- 
sions were  the  difficulties  we  must  en- 
counter in  locating  the  cachette.  That 
done,  we  looked  upon  the  rest  as  merely 
a  matter  of  patience  and  muscle  —  or 
dynamite — and  the  conjectures  as  to  our 
separate  dividends  fluctuated  between  the 
thousands  and  the  millions;  for,  as  Chif- 
fard  said,  it  was  just  as  easy  to  add  an 
extra  zero  or  two  before  the  treasure  was 
unearthed,  since  this  could  not  in  any  way 
affect  the  eventual  result,  and  it  certain- 
ly did  give  flavor  to  our  constant  diet 

of  boiled  and  fried  cod.     Chiffard,  in  his 
104 


EXPLANATIONS  AND  NEGOTIATIONS 

own  culinary  way,  was  more  or  less  of  a 
philosopher. 

So  it  was  that  we  eventually  brought 
Carquemort  to  look  upon  the  proposed 
separation  as  a  part  of  the  comedy  we 
must  act,  and  he  agreed  to  take  his  role 
with  the  rest  of  us,  the  only  stipulations 
being  that  he  have  a  voice  in  the  selec- 
tion of  the  schooner  and  the  crew,  and 
that  if  gold  were  found  we  all  sail  away 
from  the  islands  together.  We  could  not 
quite  understand  his  persistent  desire  to 
have  us  on  board  the  treasure  -  laden 
schooner,  but  we  did  not  bother  much 
about  it,  because  we  had  never  even  re- 
motely contemplated  the  idea  of  intrust- 
ing the  fruits  of  our  quest,  might  they  be 
ever  so  small,  to  such  a  rascal  as  Carque- 
mort. 

"  If  we  find  but  a  thousand  dollars," 
observed  Thatcher,  "  I  shall  not  only 
convoy  it  to  New  York  myself,  but  I 

mean  to  sit  upon  it  by  day  and  sleep  upon 
105 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

it  by  night,  until  I  get  a  deposit-slip  for 
it  from  the  receiving-teller  of  my  bank." 

Having  converted  the  men  to  our  own 
views,  we  went  down -stairs  and  sought 
out  Holtz,  whom  we  found  in  the  little 
back  room  where  he  had  entertained  us 
on  our  arrival  the  nis^ht  before.  Thatcher 

O 

pulled  his  hat  over  his  eyes  and  looked  as 
mysterious  as  he  could,  and  glanced  about 
the  room  as  if  he  feared  there  might  be 
agents  of  the  secret  police  concealed  some- 
where, and  then  addressed  our  host  in 
what  I  should  have  appreciated  as  a  very 
melodramatic  manner  if  I  had  not  been 
in  such  a  peculiar  mental  condition  con- 
sequent upon  this  whole  treasure-hunting 
business.  But  I  saw  nothing  comical  in 
the  situation  then.  Now,  as  I  look  back 
upon  it,  I  can  enjoy  it  all  to  its  full  extent, 
and  the  subsequent  tragedies  do  not  in 
the  least,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned,  cast 
gloom  over  the  farce-comedies  that  went 
before. 

106 


EXPLANATIONS  AND  NEGOTIATIONS 

"  You  have  some  acquaintance  among 
the  watermen  of  this  port  ?"  Thatcher  be- 
gan. 

Holtz  nodded  his  head  non- commit- 
tally. 

"  Well,  we  are  looking  for  a  schooner 
that  we  can  get  to  take  us  over  to  St. 
Pierre,  and  wait  for  us  until  we  get  ready 
to  come  away,  and  either  sail  us  back  to 
Halifax  or  to  some  port  in  the  States." 

"  Why  don't  you  go  to  St.  Pierre  on 
La  Patrie  ?"  asked  Holtz. 

"  Well,"  drawled  Thatcher,  as  he  blew 
a  great  cloud  of  smoke  towards  the  ceil- 
ing and  then  looked  steadily  at  the  hotel 
proprietor,  "  I  am  told  that  St.  Pierre  is  a 
most  interesting  place,  and  we  may  find 
some  things  up  there  that  we  should  like 
to  bring  back;  and  possibly  it  might  not 
be  just  convenient  for  us  to  ship  them 
on  La  Patrie — do  you  see?  We  don't 
want  to  go  through  a  lot  of  formalities, 

you  know." 

107 


FOUR  FOR  A   FORTUNE 

"  O-o-o-h !"  exclaimed  Holtz,  in  a  very 
low,  long  sort  of  whistle ;  "  I  understand." 
And  he  looked  long  and  search ingly  at 
both  of  us.  "  I  wondered  why  you  gen- 
tlemen came  with  those  two"  —  and  he 
jerked  his  head  to  one  side,  as  indicating 
Chiffard  and  Carquemort.  "  They  are 
seamen  ?" 

"  Both,"  replied  Thatcher.  "  We  want 
two  more,  I  guess  —  a  master  and  an 
A.  B.  The  skipper  must  be  a  man  with 
a  level  head,  and  no  mouth,  no  eyes, 
no  ears,  no  memory !" 

"  Perhaps  we  can  do  something,"  said 
Holtz,  musingly.  "  I  know  a  man  who 
forgets  very  quick,"  and  he  chuckled  at 
his  own  sally.  Then  he  rose  from  his 
seat  and  stepped  to  a  window  facing  the 
bay  and  called  to  a  boy,  who  sat  swinging 
his  legs  on  the  end  of  the  dock,  to  run 
down  and  fetch  Captain  McLeod,  if  he 
was  at  home. 

"  McLeod  is  about  the  man  you  want, 

108 


EXPLANATIONS  AND  NEGOTIATIONS 

I  guess,"  he  said,  as  he  sat  down  again. 
"  He  knows  those  Newfoundland  waters 
as  he  knows  his  pocket.  And,"  he  added, 
impressively,  "  there's  nobody  knows  any- 
thing about  Captain  John  McLeod's  busi- 
ness, because  Captain  John  McLeod  don't 
advertise  in  the  newspapers."  And  here 
Holtz  chuckled  again  and  -looked  from 
one  to  the  other  of  us  to  note  the  effect 
of  his  wit. 

I  never  should  have  picked  out  Holtz 
for  a  man  imbued  with  delicacy  and  tact, 
and  the  spirit  which  prompted  him  to  act 
as  he  presently  did  may  have  been  far 
from  either  of  these  qualities.  But  what- 
ever it  was,  when,  fifteen  or  twenty  min- 
utes later,  a  short,  stocky,  bearded  seaman 
came  stumping  into  the  hotel,  Holtz  arose, 
and,  having  shaken  hands  with  his  friend, 
introduced  him  to  us,  and  then  walked 
forthwith  out  of  the  room,  closing  the  door 
behind  him,  without  saying  a  word  or 

offering  any  explanation  whatever  to  the 
109 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

sea-captain.  Possibly  that  is  the  way 
business  of  this  nature  is  transacted  in 
Sydney  and  similar  places,  for  the  new- 
comer seemed  to  take  it  all  as  a  matter 
of  course.  As  for  ourselves,  we  were  just 
as  well  pleased  to  have  as  few  cooks  to 
our  broth  as  were  absolutely  necessary. 

So  we  shook  hands  all  around,  and 
poured  a  full  glass  for  the  captain,  who 
drew  a  chair  up  to  the  table  and  crossed 
his  short  legs  and  folded  his  hard,  knotted 
hands,  and  sat  calmly  waiting  for  one  of 
us  to  speak,  showing  no  more  embarrass- 
ment than  if  he  had  known  us  all  his  life. 
And  this  is  odd  for  a  seafaring  man. 


CHAPTER   X 
THE    CAPTAIN    OF    THE    MERRY   MADGE 

CAPTAIN  McLEOD  was  a  Cape  Bret- 
onese  Scot,  and  I  judge  his  years  were 
fifty.  He  came  originally  from  a  village 
of  the  Bras  d'Or,  but  for  the  past  twenty- 
five  years  or  more  he  had  lived  in  and 
out  of  Sydney,  mostly  on  sea.  I  was  not 
greatly  taken  with  his  countenance,  but  I 
presume  it  is  scarcely  fair  to  look  for  soft- 
voiced,  mild-mannered  men  in  the  trade 
he  followed.  His  hair  was  close  cropped 
on  a  bullet  head,  and  his  pale,  sea-colored 
eyes  moved  slowly  but  ceaselessly  from 
one  side  of  the  room  to  the  other,  or  from 
the  ceiling  to  the  floor.  He  had  a  scar 
down  his  right  cheek  which  fell  across 
the  corner  of  his  mouth  and  gave  a  pecul- 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

iar  and  ghastly  expression  to  his  face 
when  he  smiled  —  which  was  not  often, 
thank  Heaven.  He  was  shaven  along  the 
upper  lip  and  to  a  point  just  below  the 
ears,  but  his  chin  and  throat  bristled  with 
a  short,  stubby  beard  that  resembled 
horse-hair. 

Thatcher  opened  the  proceedings  with- 
out any  diplomatic  parleying  and  went 
directly  to  the  point,  stating  our  case 
almost  in  the  first  sentence — an  auda- 
cious proceeding  which  undoubtedly  bore 
weight  with  the  sailorman. 

"  Captain,"  he  said,  "  we  want  to  go  up 
to  St.  Pierre  Miquelon,  on  a  little  matter 
of  business  and  pleasure  combined.  We 
are  looking  for  a  schooner,  snug  and  sea- 
worthy, and  a  skipper  who  knows  those 
waters.  We  may  wish  to  remain  up 
there  two  weeks — we  may  find  ourselves 
compelled  to  stay  two  months." 

McLeod  grunted  and  glanced  up  quick- 
ly, first  at  one  of  us  and  then  at  the  other. 


112 


THE   CAPTAIN  OF  THE  MERRY  MADGE 

"I  have  a  little  eighty -ton  schooner 
anchored  off  the  point  down  here,"  he  said, 
"  and  as  soon  as  I  can  put  in  enough  kind- 
ling-wood and  coal,  I'm  going  up  to  the 
French  islands  myself.  I  usually  take 
the  Merry  Madge  over  there  two  or  three 
times  a  year;  but  I  never  carried  any 
passengers,"  and  McLeod  again  looked 
up  quizzically.  Thatcher  seemed  to  un- 
derstand. 

"  There  are  four  of  us,"  he  said. 
"  Two  are  to  go  on  the  schooner,  two 
will  go  on  La  Patrie"  And  then  he 
added,  slowly  and  impressively,  plac- 
ing the  tip  of  his  extended  forefinger 
upon  the  captain's  knee :  "  But  from  the 
time  the  schooner  we  hire  leaves  her 
mooring  here  until  she  lands  us  again 
at  any  port  we  may  designate  between 
St.  John's  and  Philadelphia,  we  control 
her  absolutely  —  do  you  understand?  — 
absohitely.  We  take  all  risks,  too  —  and 
we're  willing  to  pay  what's  right." 

H  113 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

"  Ah !"  exclaimed  McLeod,  thought- 
fully. "  Of  course,  it's  none  of  my  busi- 
ness what  you  gentlemen  are  going  up 
there  for;  and  I'd  just  as  lief  not  know 
anything  about  it.  I  ain't  going  to  ask 
any  questions.  I'll  just  sail  the  Merry 
Madge  as  you  say ;  and  while  I'm  under 
contract  to  you,  I'll  do  as  you  wish,  bar 
running  her  on  the  rocks." 

"  That's  understood,  then.  We're  boss, 
and  what  we  say  goes." 

"  What  you  say  goes,"  assented  Mc- 
Leod. "  Where  are  the  others  ?" 

"  I'll  call  them,"  said  I,  rising. 

"  No ;  hold  up  a  bit,"  interposed 
Thatcher,  and,  turning  to  the  captain, 
"  What's  your  price  ?" 

McLeod  did  not  hesitate  a  second : 
"  Three  hundred  dollars,  cash  down  in 
the  Dominion  Bank  here,  before  we 
start." 

"  And  for  how  long  does  that  give  us 

control  of  the  schooner  ?" 
114 


THE  CAPTAIN  OF  THE  MERRY  MADGE 

"You  said  you  wanted  her  about  two 
months.  If  you  require  her  a  month 
longer  we  can  come  to  an  understanding 
later,  easy  enough.  This  figure  includes 
my  services,  but  you  pay  the  crew." 

"  How  many  men  do  you  want  in  the 
forecastle  ?" 

"  Two  can  work  her ;  three  would  do 
better." 

"  We'll  give  you  a  seaman  and  a  cook 
— the  two  men  with  us;  you  get  the 
others." 

"  My  son,  for  one,"  said  the  captain ; 
"  and  there's  always  plenty  of  hands  hang- 
ing around  the  coal  docks." 

"  Very  well ;  that  '11  make  four  besides 
yourself,  and  the  cook  can  stand  his  watch 
with  the  rest.  Our  fellows  are  both 
French." 

"  That's  all  right,"  grinned  McLeod  ; 
"  I  can  talk  to  the  beasts ;  I've  had  Ca- 
nucks on  the  Merry  Madge  before  this," 
and  he  ripped  out  a  French  oath  as  a 

"5 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

sort  of  confirmation  of  his  linguistic  ca- 
pabilities. 

"  You'll  do,"  laughed  Thatcher ;  "  now 
let's  look  at  the  boat." 

We  picked  up  Chiffard  and  Carque- 
mort  at  the  door;  the  latter  looking  some- 
what sour,  for  I  guess  he  had  expected  to 
be  called  in  with  McLeod.  But  he  said 
nothing,  and  we  set  off  down  the  street, 
Thatcher  and  the  captain  walking  on 
ahead,  with  Carquemort  dogging  their 
heels,  while  Chiffard  and  I  followed  lei- 
surely behind. 

The  Merry  Madge  was  swinging  to  a 
barrel  buoy  about  ten  cable-lengths  from 
shore,  just  beyond  a  rocky  little  point 
where  the  town  begins  to  lose  itself  in 
the  scrub  pine  wilderness  half  a  mile  or 
so  beyond  the  Hotel  des  Ambassadeurs. 
She  was  not,  by  any  means,  a  beautiful 
craft  to  look  upon,  being  rather  more 
square  -  prowed  than  what  you  see  in 
Gloucester,  but  McLeod  explained  as  we 

116 


THE  CAPTAIN  OF  THE  MERRY  MADGE 

neared  her  that  she  was  built  to  crunch 
through  the  ice  eight  months  of  the  year. 
She  sat  low  in  the  water,  and  her  dirty, 
coal-soiled  sails  swung  half-hoist,  bleach- 
ing in  the  sunlight. 

"Lend a  hand  there,  Crackmug!"  shout- 
ed the  captain  to  our  friend,  Carquemort, 
as  we  reached  the  pebbly  shore.  "  Chuck 
those  oars  into  that  dory,  and  slide  her 
down  lively,  now !  And  see  here,  you 
jab  sea  cook" — to  Chiffard — "limber  up 
now,  limber  up !  Don't  you  see  the 
painter's  going  foul  of  that  stake  there  ? 
'Cre  mille  millions  de  pipes  /" 

Carquemort  was  somewhat  surprised  at 
these  unexpected  commands,  but  (from 
habit,  doubtless)  he  did  not  hesitate  to 
obey;  he  grabbed  one  side  of  the  heavy 
dory  that  lay  high  and  dry  on  the  beach, 
while  the  captain  laid  hold  of  the  other 
gunwale,  and  between  the  two  of  them 
they  launched  her  easily ;  while  Chiffard, 
who  had  been  playing  the  grand  seigneur 

"7 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

for  over  a  week,  stood  like  a  stone  image 
and  glared  at  McLeod  as  if  he  had  been 
insulted ;  and  I  sprang  to  catch  the  trail- 
ing painter  just  in  time  to  keep  the  dory 
from  sliding  adrift. 

Thatcher  smiled.  "  You're  a  sailor  now, 
Chiffard,"  he  said;  "steward  and  cook  of 
the  Merry  Madge,  or  will  be  if  we  find 
her  ship-shape  and  suitable.  You've  got 
to  remember  you're  not  in  New  York  now, 
and  that  McLeod  's  captain  of  his  boat 
and  your  superior.  You  know  what  that 
means ;  you've  got  sense.  You  have  not 
dug  up  any  gold  yet,  you  know." 

Chiffard  laughed  and  nodded,  and  cursed 
in  an  undertone ;  but  he  knew  what  was 
expected  of  him  and  what  he  might  ex- 
pect, and  his  early  experience  at  sea  stood 
him  in  good  stead. 

"  I'll  do  what's  right,"  he  said,  "  but  I 
wish  to  Heaven  it  was  all  over.  To  think 
of  fere  Chiffard  '  aye,  aye  '-ing  to  a  crab 
like  that !" 

118 


THE   CAPTAIN   OF  THE  MERRY  MADGE 

In  the  mean  time  Carquemort  and  the 
captain  had  brought  the  dory  alongside 
of  a  dilapidated  float  near  by,  and  we 
quickly  clambered  in. 

"  Tumble  into  the  bow  there,  chef  T 
shouted  McLeod,  "and  play  ballast  for 
the  gentlemen  in  the  stern-sheets.  Fall 
away !"  He  and  Carquemort  were  at  the 
oars,  and  it  did  me  good  to  see  the  latter, 
for  the  first  time  since  I  had  known  him, 
doing  some  work. 

We  found  the  captain's  son,  Glen,  swab- 
bing down  decks,  and  he  was  powerfully 
surprised  to  see  the  company  his  father 
brought  over  the  rail  with  him.  He  was 
a  likely  looking  lad  for  a  Cape  Bretonese, 
some  two-and-twenty  years  of  age,  I  guess, 
built  square  from  top  to  toe,  but  appar- 
ently not  the  mental  equal  of  his  ancestor. 

As  soon  as  Chiffard  set  foot  on  the 
schooner's  deck  he  recovered  his  usual 
good  -  humor,  and  drew  in  great  lungfuls 

of  the  salt  air  that  rushed  over  the  bow 
119 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

and  fell  out  of  the  drying  sails.  "Ah,sa- 
cristi,  que  (a  sent  don  /"  he  exclaimed ;  and 
he  went  stomping  up  forward  to  scrape 
acquaintance  with  young  McLeod. 

"  We  shall  not  want  you,"  said  Thatch- 
er, turning  to  Carquemort,  who  hung  near 
by.  "  We're  going  below  to  talk  business 
with  the  captain,  and  until  we  return  you 
can  look  over  the  schooner  and  see  if  she 
fills  the  bill."  Then,  as  we  crawled  down 
the  companion-way  into  the  cabin,  Thatch- 
er said  to  the  captain :  "  You  want  to 
treat  our  two  men  white,  if  you  can. 
They're  in  a  sort  of  partnership  with  us 
on  this  deal;"  and  he  added:  "  I  don't  mean 
by  that  you're  to  take  any  nonsense." 

"  You  bet  I  won't,"  returned  McLeod. 
"  The  men  on  this  schooner  do  what  I 
tell  'em,  and  they  do  it  well  and  P.  D.  Q. ! 
But  I  guess  I  know  what  you  mean,  and 
I'll  hold  it  in  mind.  But,  mind  you,  this 
trip  ain't  a  picnic  for  the  hands.  Those 
fellows  ain't  passengers." 

120 


THE   CAPTAIN   OF   THE   MERRY  MADGE 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,"  said  I.  "They're 
here  to  work,  but  don't  drive  'em." 

"  If  they  do  their  work  properly  they'll 
find  Captain  John  McLeod  is  their  man." 
And  the  old  sea-dog  slowly  closed  one  eye 
in  a  self-appreciative  and  confident  wink. 


CHAPTER  XI 
A    CONTRACT 

THE  cabin  of  the  Merry  Madge was  not 
roomy,  nor  particularly  clean  ;  neither  was 
its  atmosphere  so  pure  and  bracing  as  that 
which  had  delighted  Chiffard  on  deck,  but 
no  doubt  the  arrangements  were  as  good 
as  could  be  expected  aboard  an  eighty-ton 
coaling  schooner,  and,  on  the  whole,  things 
might  have  been  a  great  deal  worse.  There 
were  two  so-called  state-rooms,  one  on 
either  side  of  the  companion-way,  the  star- 
board compartment  being  the  captain's 
room.  "  Sometimes  I  let  Glen  sleep  in 
the  other,"  explained  McLeod,  "but  most- 
ly he  bunks  for'ard.  It's  good  for  him." 
A  narrow  table  ran  down  the  centre  of 
the  cabin  under  the  skylight,  and  along 


122 


A  CONTRACT 

the  sides  were  set  a  couple  of  broad  lock- 
ers, cushioned  on  top  so  that  they  might, 
if  necessary,  be  used  for  bunks.  "  One  of 
you  passengers  '11  have  to  take  up  there, 
I  guess,"  laughed  the  captain.  "  You  can 
toss  for  the  other  room."  Then  he  stepped 
over  to  a  cupboard  and  brought  down  a 
brown  bottle  and  some  glasses.  "  I  guess 
you  can't  beat  this  Madeira,  even  in 
New  York,"  he  said.  "  Captain  McDavitt 
brought  it  over  to  me  from  Cadiz ;  that's 
his  barkentine  tied  up  to  the  wharf  back 
of  the  hotel,"  he  added;  "she  trades  in 
salt." 

"  This  is  pretty  good  salt,"  I  said,  as  I 
drank  half  a  glassful  of  the  wine.  I  had 
never  tasted  better. 

"  Yes,"  answered  McLeod.  "  There's 
money  in  salt,  if  you  know  what  kind  to 
buy,"  and  he  chuckled  softly  as  he  held 
his  glass  up  to  the  light. 

Thereupon  we  turned  to  a  discussion 

of  the  business  in  hand.     McLeod  said 
123 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

there  were  some  twenty  tons  of  coal  in 
the  hold  already,  and  that  he  had  intend- 
ed putting  in  more  during  the  week ;  but 
he  was  willing,  if  we  could  advance  a  part 
of  the  contract  price,  to  put  down  to  the 
coal-trestles  on  Monday  and  take  on  an- 
other twenty  tons.  Then  he  thought  he 
could  get  kindling-wood  from  a  village  a 
couple  of  miles  inland  the  next  day,  and 
be  ready  to  put  to  sea  Wednesday  on  the 
early  tide.  The  captain  was  more  anxious 
about  the  kindling  than  the  coal.  "  There 
isn't  a  tree  on  those  islands,"  he  explain- 
ed, "and  Johnny  Crapaud  has  to  buy  all 
his  firewood  from  us  or  the  Newfound- 
landers. Those  Burin  fellows  run  over 
in  dories  from  the  French  shore,  but  they 
can't  carry  any  such  load  as  I'll  put  in  if 
I  have  luck."  He  then  wanted  to  know 
how  much  cargo  space  we  wanted  for  the 
return  trip,  but,  to  his  credit,  he  beat  the 
devil  around  the  stump  a  long  while  be- 
fore he  put  the  question. 
124 


IN   THE   CABIN    OK    THE   MERRY  MADGE 


A  CONTRACT 

"  That's  what  we  can't  tell,"  I  answered. 
"  We  really  don't  know  ourselves,  captain; 
but  I  reckon  the  cabin  will  hold  all  we'll 
bring  off!" 

"  The  cabin  ?"  exclaimed  McLeod,  in 
surprise. 

"The  cabin,"  I  repeated;  "but  we'll 
see." 

"Oh,"  said  McLeod,  good-naturedly, 
"any  one  might  think  you  were  going 
after  diamonds !  But  I  was  not  asking 
out  of  curiosity,"  he  continued.  "I  want 
to  know  if  I'll  have  room  to  take  on  a 
load  of  cod." 

"You  are  going  to  St.  Pierre,"  said 
Thatcher,  "  to  sell  coal  and  buy  cod,  Mr. 
McLeod.  Do  you  understand  that  ? 
That's  what  you  are  going  there  for." 

"  I  guess  I  see  that,"  said  the  captain. 

"And  you're  in  no  hurry  for  your  cod 
— do  you  see  ?  You  are  willing  to  wait 
for  the  price  to  go  down." 

"  Surely,"  nodded  McLeod.     "  I'll  find 

125 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

out  who's  in  port,  and  I'll  be  waiting  to 
buy  my  fish  from  the  fellow  that's  on  the 
banks." 

"That's  the  idea,"  said  Thatcher;  and 
then  he  roughly  outlined  a  contract  in 
pencil,  covering  all  these  points,  and  we 
agreed  to  sign  Monday  after  the  money 
had  been  deposited  in  the  Dominion 
Bank.  Take  it  all  in  all,  we  felt  satisfied 
with  our  man — and  the  one  thing  above 
all  others  that  compelled  our  admiration 
was  his  capacity  for  minding  his  own 
business. 

When  we  got  back  to  our  quarters  at 
the  Hotel  des  Ambassadeurs,  Carque- 
mort,  very  much  to  our  surprise,  express- 
ed himself  as  perfectly  satisfied  with  the 
schooner  Merry  Madge ;  and  when,  after 
supper,  we  read  off  Thatcher's  outline  of 
the  contract,  both  men  approved,  and  said 
they  would  do  their  share  towards  working 
the  schooner  up  to  the  islands.  The  only 

objection  Carquemort  made  was  to  the 
126 


A  CONTRACT 

charter  price ;  but  that  objection  was  not 
very  vigorous  since  the  money  did  not 
come  out  of  his  pocket.  So  delighted 
was  I  at  the  progress  we  had  made  and 
at  Carquemort's  decency  and  demeanor, 
that  I  was  fool  enough  to  give  him  a  two- 
dollar  bill,  bidding  him  drink  to  our  good 
luck  and  to  his  new  berth,  which  he  did 
faithfully,  and  the  next  day  he  was  of  no 
use — a  condition  which  we  ultimately  en- 
vied him,  for  a  Sunday  in  Sydney,  Cape 
Breton,  is  a  dreadful  and  interminable 
experience.  But,  like  all  things,  it  came 
to  an  end,  and  the  next  two  days  saw  us 
most  diversely  occupied. 

Everything  progressed  satisfactorily, 
and  by  Tuesday  evening  McLeod  had 
his  coal  and  kindling-wood  snugly  stowed 
away  in  the  hold  of  the  Merry  Madge, 
and  everything  was  in  readiness  for  the 
schooner  to  put  to  sea  early  the  follow- 
ing morning. 

The  fourth  hand  for  the  crew  had  been 

127 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

shipped — and,  strange  to  say,  upon  Car- 
quemort's  recommendation.  Carquemort 
had  discovered  him  Saturday  night  in 
some  den  of  the  town,  and  the  two  had 
drunk  together,  and  he  would  have  us 
believe  he  had  known  the  fellow  before ; 
but  we  all  doubted  this  part  of  the  story. 
The  man  was  a  Finn,  by  name  Semsen — 
tall,  lean,  sunken-eyed,  but  a  deep-sea  sail- 
or through  and  through,  and  he  satisfied 
McLeod  the  moment  he  clapped  eyes 
upon  him.  This  being  the  case,  we  were 
willing  to  ship  him  ;  and  we  \vere  further 
urged  to  this  course  that  it  might  seem 
to  Carquemort  as  if  he  were  a  factor  in 
our  counsels.  For  this  bit  of  sentiment 
we  paid  dearly  in  the  end,  as  all  must 
who  allow  sentiment  to  interfere  with 
business. 

We  were  up  with  the  larks  on  Wednes- 
day and  walked  down  to  the  point.  Mc- 
Leod rowed  in  from  the  Merry  Madge  for 

a  few  last  words  and  then  pulled  back; 
128 


A  CONTRACT 

and  Thatcher  and  I  stood  upon  the  shore 
and  listened  to  the  creaking  of  the  blocks 
and  the  bawling  of  orders  until  the  cable 
was  slipped  from  the  mooring,  and  the 
breeze  bent  the  little  collier  to  a  grace- 
ful angle,  and  the  water  bubbled  in  her 
wake  as  she  moved  slowly  out  of  the  bay. 
We  realized  now,  more  fully  than  we 
had  at  any  time  before,  that  we  were  fair- 
ly launched  upon  our  enterprise,  and  we 
were  scarcely  able  to  control  the  powerful 
emotions  that  rose  within  us.  We  stood 
in  silence,  and  never  turned  our  eyes  from 
the  boat  until  at  last  she  fell  off  behind 
the  low  headland  and  disappeared.  Then 
we  turned  slowly  away. 


CHAPTER   XII 
A   VOYAGE    OVER-SEAS 

LONG,  narrow,  high-prowed  La  Patrie, 
with  the  tricolor  of  France  floating  laz- 
ily from  the  taffrail,  put  into  Sydney 
a  couple  of  hours  later,  having  come  up 
through  the  Golden  Lakes  from  Bad- 
deck.  She  groaned  and  snorted  and 
whistled,  and  made  much  ado,  after  the 
Gallic  fashion ;  and  her  deck-racing,  wild- 
ly gesticulating  officers  almost  had  nervous 
prostration  over  getting  her  into  dock ; 
all  of  which  afforded  much  amusement  to 
the  Sydney  wharf-loungers,  who  laughed 
uproariously  and  cast  back  ribald  taunts 
in  answer  to  the  polysyllabic  oaths  belched 
into  the  air  by  the  motley  French  crew. 

"  The    blooming    maniacs !"    muttered 
130 


A   VOYAGE  OVER  SEAS 

Holtz ;  "  they  give  us  this  bloody  show 
every  two  weeks,"  and  he  turned  away  in 
disgust. 

There  was,  in  truth,  a  good  deal  of  the 
spectacular  about  the  management  of  this 
good  ship,  as  Holtz  had  justly  said — that 
is,  it  was  spectacular  from  an  Anglo-Saxon 
point  of  view,  but  doubtless,  to  the  French- 
men, very  serious  business. 

The  afternoon  was  spent  in  coaling, 
and  at  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening,  after 
the  mail  -  train  from  civilization  had  ar- 
rived, there  was  bustle  and  commotion, 
and  a  prodigious  sound  of  voices  on  the 
deck.  Then,  after  some  delay,  a  vocifer- 
ous exhortation  from  the  bridge  was  sent 
rattling  down  the  speaking  -  tube  to  the 
engineer  asking  why  in  the  name  of  all 
the  thousand  thunders,  and  such  other  of 
the  elements  as  are  invoked  by  the  French, 
he  did  not  start  his  machines.  To  which 
the  engineer  replied  in  muffled  tones, 
from  the  bowels  of  the  ship,  that  he  was 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

no  mind- reader,  and  that  no  signal  had 
yet  been  given,  and  would  any  one  be- 
lieve, par  example,  that  a  ship  -  captain 
could  be  such  an  infernal  idiot  as  not  to 
know  enough  to  pull  the  signal-bell  when 
he  was  ready  to  start?  Whereupon  en- 
sued a  long-distance  quarrel  full  of  pictur- 
esque verbiage  and  marine  simile,  which 
ended  by  the  captain  calling  upon  the  man 
at  the  wheel  as  witness  that  he  had  pulled 
the  cord.  The  quartermaster  was  com- 
pelled to  side  with  the  engineer,  and  as- 
sured the  captain  that  he  must  have  over- 
looked the  little  formality;  thereupon  a 
stream  of  apology  was  sent  gurgling  down- 
ward through  the  speaking-trumpet,  and 
the  engineer's  acceptance  soon  came  bub- 
bling upward,  and,  after  a  pleasant  ex- 
change of  courtesies  and  jests,  the  ma- 
chinery-man asked  if  the  captain  was  ready 
to  start  now,  and  the  captain  replied  that 
he  was  if  the  engineer  was ;  and  so,  pres- 
ently, the  engines  began  to  wheeze  and 
132 


A   VOYAGE   OVER-SEAS 

strain  and  the  episode  was  closed,  and  the 
departure  had,  after  all,  been  delayed  not 
more  than  fifteen  minutes,  which  is  insig- 
nificantwhen  you  consider  howmuch  more 
important  it  is  that  the  officers  of  a  ship 
should  thoroughly  understand  one  another. 

Thus  it  is  plain  that  life  upon  the  good 
ship  La  Patrie  was  void  of  that  excessive 
formality  which  breeds  stiffness  and,  per- 
haps, discomfort  —  two  conditions  which, 
at  sea,  of  all  places,  are  repugnant  to  the 
Latin  temperament. 

We  found  a  strange  and  mixed  com- 
pany on  board :  three  priests  from  Antig- 
onish  bound  for  St.  Johns ;  an  Ameri- 
can merchant  of  St.  Pierre,  genial  and 
florid,  and  full  of  quaint  oaths  and  strange 
hyperbole,  and  half  a  score  of  good,  plain 
St.  Pierrese,  returning  from  their  vaca- 
tions. Among  the  latter  was  a  pleasant 
and  garrulous  old  gentleman,  a  great- 
grandfather, who,  we  were  told,  was  the 
"oldest  inhabitant." 

133 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

"Just  our  man,"  said  Thatcher;  and 
the  next  morning,  as  the  ship  rolled  easily 
over  the  glassy  sea,  we  made  M.  de  Man- 
clay's  acquaintance.  He  was  a  friend- 
ly soul,  superlatively  communicative  and 
overflowing  with  anecdote.  When  we  told 
him  we  were  going  to  the  islands  for  the 
pure  pleasure  of  sojourning  a  few  weeks 
among  its  people,  the  good  old  gentleman 
expanded  as  a  morning-glory  opens  to 
the  rising  sun,  and  the  thrilling  history 
of  France's  only  remaining  possession  in 
North  America  fell  from  his  lips  in  an  ab- 
sorbing and  enthusiastic  narrative.  He 
told  us  of  himself  and  of  what  he  had 
seen  and  done  in  the  long  years  that  had 
stretched  away  to  the  birth  of  the  century 
through  the  perspective  of  his  life,  and  he 
revelled  in  the  romance  of  warfare  and 
the  sea. 

" Croiriez-vous  bien,  messieurs"  he  con- 
tinued, dramatically,  "  that  I  likewise  saw 
some  of  the  terrors  of  your  own  civil  war  ? 
134 


A  VOYAGE   OVER-SEAS 

I  went  down  to  Baltimore  to  buy  a  schoon- 
er for  my  fishing  enterprises.  I  took  my 
men  with  me,  and  I  sailed  her  back  to 
St.  Pierre  myself.  Off  Cape  Ann  we  saw 
a  couple  of  Confederate  privateers  (des 
corsaires  du  Sud,  he  called  them)  overhaul 
and  capture  a  dozen  fishing-smacks  from 
Gloucester,  and  they  lashed  them  together 
and  set  them  on  fire.  It  was  evening,  and 
we  saw  the  glare  and  smoke  even  after  the 
conflagration  had  sunk  below  the  horizon 
to  the  south  of  us.  Ah,  la  guerre,  mes 
jeunes  amis,  cest  terrible  /" 

And  so  the  morning  hours  wore  away, 
and  incidentally  we  picked  up  a  vast 
amount  of  information  which  must  be 
useful  to  us  in  our  impending  endeavors. 

Along  towards  noon  the  fog  fell  and 
shut  us  in  upon  the  heaving  bosom  of  an 
unrippled  sea.  The  ship  bowed  rhyth- 
mically to  the  ground-swell,  and  only  the 
measured  thump,  thump,  thump  of  the 
propeller,  deep  astern,  broke  the  absolute 
135 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

silence  of  our  surroundings.  Occasion- 
ally the  man  at  the  wheel  bethought  him- 
self of  the  requirements  of  navigation, 
and  pulled  a  hoarse  blast  from  the  fog- 
horn ;  but  so  long  as  he  could  even  see 
a  ship's  length  ahead  of  him  he  refrain- 
ed from  this  exertion.  Along  about  two 
o'clock  there  came  evidences  that  we 
were  nearing  land.  We  began  to  catch 
sight  of  dories  off  in  the  mist,  two  fisher- 
men in  each,  tending  their  cod  lines.  Oc- 
casionally the  captain  stopped  the  steamer 
and  conversed  with  the  dorymen  over  the 
rail,  and  the  dorymen  talked  in  an  unin- 
telligible patois  and  pointed  hither  and 
yon,  and  gave  us  our  bearings.  And  thus 
La  Patrie  felt  her  way  cautiously  in  tow- 
ards the  islands. 

Then,  all  of  a  sudden,  out  of  the  ab- 
solute stillness  of  the  cloud-banks  there 
came  a  deep,  long-drawn  moan — the  warn- 
ing of  a  fog-horn,  the  big  steam-whistle 

on  Galantry  Head,  at  the  entrance  of  St. 
136 


A   VOYAGE  OVER-SEAS 

Pierre  harbor.  It  made  a  weird  and  ghast- 
ly noise,  the  note  being  so  arranged  that 
it  trembled  and  vibrated  like  the  hoarse 
bleating  of  some  mammoth  sheep.  The 
sensation  upon  first  hearing  this  fearsome 
sound,  that  seemed  to  come  out  of  no- 
where from  the  mist  and  darkness,  was  pe- 
culiar, and  suggestive  of  uncanny  things. 
This  ghastly  howl  of  distress  bore  over 
the  silent  water  like  the  wail  of  some 
giant -child — some  Frankenstein  of  the 
North  that  had  become  lost  in  the  fog, 
and  was  crying  out  for  help  as  it  wan- 
dered alone  over  the  ocean  wilderness. 

We  could  tell  from  the  curving  wake 
that  the  vessel  was  pointing  in  towards  the 
sound.  Soon  there  was  a  rift  in  the  mist, 
and  the  thickest  of  the  fog  seemed  to  lift ; 
and  there,  on  the  port  bow,  barely  three 
ship's  lengths  from  us,  rose  the  bleak, 
rocky  Galantry  Head,  with  the  slender 
light-house  towering  on  its  brow  and  the 
dreadful  fog  -  horn  bellowing  amid  the 
137 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

breakers  at  its  base.  The  helm  went 
hard  down,  and  we  swung  into  the  chan- 
nel for  the  harbor.  This  lies  straight  and 
narrow  between  the  Head  and  a  small  isl- 
and where  a  little  white  fishing  village 
clusters  about  a  church  and  a  light-house, 
and  so  narrow  is  its  course  that  our  faces, 
as  we  leaned  eagerly  over  the  rail,  were 
splashed  by  the  spray  that  flew  from  the 
surf  on  the  rocks. 

"  That,"  said  M.  de  Manclay,  pointing 
to  the  island,  "  is  1'Ile  aux  Chiens." 

What  a  magic  name  for  us !  How  we 
leaned  and  craned  our  necks  and  stared 
at  the  little  settlement,  and  tried  to  pierce 
the  very  fog-banks  with  our  vision,  search- 
ing for  the  "  cross  "  that  had  so  long  de- 
layed and  puzzled  us  in  the  early  stages 
of  our  adventure.  But  we  could  see  no 
cross,  and  we  thought  best,  for  the  present, 
to  ask  no  questions.  We  mistrusted  our 
own  eagerness. 

A  little  breeze  had  sprung  up  mean- 
138 


A  VOYAGE   OVER-SEAS 

while  from  over  Newfoundland  way,  and 
the  heavy  rolls  of  mist  rose  slowly  and 
went  scurrying  off  to  leeward,  leaving  the 
fair  little  French  town  of  St.  Pierre  all 
uncurtained  before  us.  We  exclaimed  at 
the  rude  beauty  of  this  sudden  vision, 
and  I  felt,  for  one,  that  if  even  now  our 
quest  proved  vain,  the  voyage  to  such  a 
delightful  spot  was  well  worth  the  time 
and  trouble  we  had  expended  upon  it. 

Picture  to  yourself  a  village  of  about 
three  thousand  souls  nestled  near  the  top 
of  some  noble  Alpine  mountain,  far  up 
above  the  timber  line,  where  there  are 
no  trees,  no  bushes,  no  verdure  of  any 
kind — only  bleak,  bare,  dun-colored  rocks 
that  tower  a  thousand  feet  or  more  above 
the  slated  roofs  and  the  church  steeples. 
Then  let  your  imagination  raise  the  sea 
up  to  the  very  edge  of  this  Alpine  village; 
dot  the  tortuous  outer  harbor  with  surf- 
smitten  bowlders;  place  here  and  there  a 
little  white  light-house  clinging  to  one  of 
139 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

these  slippery  pedestals,  crowd  the  inner 
basin  with  hundreds  of  luggers,  barks,  and 
brown-sailed  fishing  schooners.  Such  is 
St.  Pierre !  It  is  a  mountain  town  in 
mid-Atlantic. 


CHAPTER  XIII 
A     BAD     START 

WE  took  up  our  lodgings  in  a  quaint 
little  house  in  a  narrow  lane  of  a  street 
that  sloped  down  towards  the  quays,  and 
we  slept  peacefully  that  night  in  high 
mahogany  bedsteads,  under  spreading, 
old-fashioned  canopies.  No  sound  dis- 
turbed our  slumbers  after  the  bold  drum- 
mer had  gone  his  rounds,  rolling  out  cur- 
few and  beating  the  St.  Pierrese  to  rest; 
and  we  were  called  again  to  the  business 
of  another  day  by  the  martial  notes  of 
the  town -crier's  bugle.  St.  Pierre  rises 
to  the  clarion  and  retires  to  the  scolding 
rumble  of  a  sheepskin. 

Our    first .  move    upon   sallying    forth 

was  the  purchase  of  a  map  of  the  islands; 
141 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

our  second,  an  excursion  across  the  har- 
bor to  the  He  aux  Chiens.  As  many 
dogs,  upon  so  restricted  an  acreage,  I 
never  saw  before ;  and  their  friendliness 
was  surpassed  only  by  the  good-natured 
curiosity  of  the  islanders.  Rightly  was 
the  rock  named  Dog  Island;  but,  as 
Thatcher  noted,  while  we  searched  in 
vain  for  the  cross  mentioned  on  Carque- 
mort's  chart,  "  The  cross  seems  rather 
to  be  in  the  breed  of  dogs  than  con- 
cretely erect  upon  the  face  of  the 
cliff." 

And,  indeed,  the  comment  was  zoologi- 
cally just.  For,  at  a  more  or  less  remote 
period  in  the  history  of  this  colony  some 
one  must  have  imported  a  dachshund. 
That  dachshund  launched  into  a  career 
of  impetuous  and  reckless  paternity,  with 
the  result  that  the  influence  of  his  breed 
is  now  plainly  demonstrate  in  the  fore- 
legs of  every  cur  in  town.  It  must  surely 

shock  any  dog-fancier  to  visit  Miquelon's 
142 


A  BAD  START 

He  aux  Chiens,  for  there  he  will  en- 
counter red  Irish  setters,  and  pointers, 
and  fox-terriers,  with  limbs  only  half  as 
long  as  they  should  be  —  the  preambu- 
lators  knock-kneed  and  squatty.  The 
noble,  pure-blooded  Newfoundland  that 
we  had  counted  upon  seeing  in  these 
regions  was  not. 

There  are  no  more  than  twoscore 
dwellings  upon  Dog  Island,  and  a  church 
which  is  little  more  than  a  chapel.  A 
small  iron  cross  tops  its  low  steeple ;  but 
this,  we  knew,  was  not  our  quarry.  None 
of  the  inhabitants  could  afford  us  any  in- 
formation ;  most  of  those  we  questioned 
merely  stared  and  shook  their  heads  in 
silence.  Therefore  we  strolled  down  to 
the  shore  and  sat  disconsolately  upon  the 
rocks  by  the  water-side  and  gazed  across 
the  bay  towards  the  neat  little  town,  bank- 
ed solidly  upon  the  slope  of  the  purpling 
hill  and  looking  for  all  the  world  as  bright 
as  if  it  had  been  new  scrubbed  that  morn- 
143 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

ing.  Thatcher  idly  tossed  a  few  pebbles 
into  the  curling  sea. 

"  It  strikes  me,"  I  said,  presently,  being 
the  first  to  break  the  silence,  "  that  we 
have  begun  poorly.  Perhaps  that  is  to 
be  accounted  for  from  the  fact  that  we 
have  tackled  our  problem  from  the  wrong 
end." 

"  The  wrong  end  ?"  repeated  Thatcher. 

"  Yes ;  I  believe  we  would  do  better  to 
first  locate  the  spot  where  stood  the  mat, 
and  trust  to  fate  to  point  out  to  us  the 
next  step  in  the  puzzle." 

"  I  suppose  you  are  right,"  returned 
Thatcher,  rising ;  "  but  with  the  He  aux 
Chiens  lying  in  plain  sight,  under  our 
very  noses,  it  was  only  natural  that  we 
should  make  for  it  first.  I  am  at  least 
satisfied  that  there  is  no  landmark-cross 
on  this  island  to-day.  Let  us  call  it  a 
false  start  and  begin  over  again." 

Upon  our  return  frorh  this  useless  ex- 
cursion, which  had  taken  up  the  greater 
144 


A  BAD  START 

part  of  the  morning,  we  sat  ourselves 
quietly  down,  with  the  official  map  we 
had  purchased  and  the  tracing  of  the 
burned  chart  laid  out  side  by  side  upon 
a  table  before  us.  Thereupon  we  set 
about  our  labors  methodically,  as  we 
ought  to  have  done  in  the  beginning. 

A  glance  at  the  reproduction  of  the 
chart  will  show  that  the  cross,  indica- 
ting the  location  of  the  cachetic,  lies  well 
away  towards  the  western  end  of  the 
island.  After  some  consideration  it  be- 
came clear  to  us  that  if  the  whole  sur- 
face of  the  island  of  St.  Pierre  were  di- 
vided into  three  approximately  equal  parts 
the  cross  could  lie  in  the  third,  and  that 
consequently  we  need  waste  no  time  in 
searching  the  central  and  eastern  sections. 
This  simplified  matters  somewhat.  We 
therefore  laid  off  these  proportions  with 
as  great  an  accuracy  as  possible  upon  the 
official  map,  and  we  thus  found  that  the 
district  in  which  we  hoped  to  unearth  a 

K  145 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

fortune  was  the  hilliest  and  most  inacces- 
sible part  of  the  island.  This  we  consid- 
ered a  favorable  indication ;  for  it  must 
be  clear  to  all  that  whosoever  concealed 
the  gold  would  naturally  have  chosen  a 
spot  as  remote  as  possible  from  the  town 
and  from  observation. 

Having  come  to  these  conclusions, 
there  was  now,  so  far  as  we  could  de- 
termine, nothing  left  for  us  to  do  but  set 
out  in  search  of  the  emplacement  of  the 
mat.  Thatcher  favored  spending  the  after- 
noon in  making  inquiries  among  the  older 
fishermen,  and  he  suggested  calling  upon 
M.  de  Manclay,  who,  he  thought,  might 
remember  the  mat  as  a  landmark  of  St. 
Pierre;  but  my  instinct  unaccountably 
opposed  me  to  this  plan  and  inclined  me 
rather  towards  action,  and  I  argued  that 
the  less  we  talked  of  our  affairs  —  no 
matter  how  few  our  questions  nor  how 
veiled  our  queries  might  be — the  better 

for  us  in  the  long-run  ;  and  I  finally  per- 
146 


A   BAD  START 

suaded  Thatcher  to  undertake  a  general 
skirmish  or  reconnaissance  over  the  coun- 
try, convincing  him  that  this  might  prob- 
ably be  more  profitable  to  us  in  the  end 
than  much  questioning  of  ignorant  fisher- 
folk.  And  the  event  proved  the  wisdom 
of  this  course. 

We  set  out  upon  our  exploration  im- 
mediately after  the  noonday  meal.  We 
toiled  up  the  steep  and  narrow  unpaved 
streets  that  lead  away  from  the  water  front, 
disputing  the  road  half  the  time  with  ox- 
carts, driven  by  burly  red-sashed  Basques, 
and  dog  teams  that  trotted  merrily  by  to 
the  encouragement  of  bare-footed,  brown- 
faced  children.  There  are  few  horses  in 
barren  St.  Pierre  ;  imported  fodder  comes 
high. 

The  day  was  fine.  The  sun  shone 
brightly  from  the  pale  northern  sky — a 
rare  luxury  in  this  region  of  fogs  and 
storms  —  and  the  air  was  cool  and  brac- 
ing. We  felt  the  blood  course  vigorously 
147 


FOUR   FOR  A  FORTUNE 

through  our  bodies,  that  had  lacked  the 
benefit  of  true  exercise  for  some  weeks 
past.  As  we  picked  our  way  through  the 
town  we  encountered  one  of  our  fellow- 
passengers  of  the  day  before — a  fat  and 
jovial  advocate  —  who  politely  inquired 
whither  we  were  bound  at  so  swinging 
a  pace.  We  told  him  we  were  making  a 
promenade  only,  and  asked  him  for  an 
orientation.  This  he  gave  us  glibly,  and 
closed  by  urging  us  to  climb  la  Grande 
Vigie,  the  highest  peak  of  the  island, 
whence  he  asserted  we  should  obtain  a 
beautiful  view  of  the  sea,  and  of  New- 
foundland, to  the  northward;  he  became 
eloquent  and  advised  us  to  lose  no  time 
in  making  the  ascent,  for  a  clear  day, 
such  as  this  was,  might  not  be  known  on 
the  island  again  for  a  year.  Thereupon, 
to  detain  us  no  longer,  he  bowed  extrava- 
gantly— we  returning  as  good  as  we  got 
— and  set  off  townwards,  shaking  his  adi- 
pose body  as  he  went. 
148 


A  BAD  START 

"  Do  you  know,"  began  Thatcher, 
thoughtfully,  as  we  resumed  our  march, 
"  this  looks  to  me  like  the  hand  of  Provi- 
dence." 

"  What  looks  to  you  like  the  hand  of 
Providence  ?"  I  exclaimed,  in  surprise. 

"  Meeting  Pepinpierre.  I  am  not  su- 
perstitious, nor  am  I  inclined  to  believe 
much  in  omens ;  but  when  a  man  pops 
up  out  of  the  ground,  so  to  say,  and  tells 
you  to  go  to  a  certain  place — which  is  in 
the  general  region  of  the  very  spot  we  are 
so  anxiously  searching  for — I  think  there's 
more  in  it  than  a  mere  coincidence." 

"  Bosh !"  I  said.  "  I  would  not  climb 
that  hill  for  a  farm  to-day,  view  or  no  view. 
The  lower  peak  is  good  enough  for  a  first 
attempt.  Wait  until  we  get  in  training 
before  we  try  the  other." 

We  could  plainly  see,  as  we  trudged 
along,  these  two  rocky  peaks  which  form 
the  highest  points  on  the  island  —  the 

nearer,  Le  Pin  de  Sucre,  some  five  hun- 
149 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

dred  feet  high,  and  across  a  little  depres- 
sion behind  it  La  Grande  Vigie,  some 
two  or  three  hundred  feet  higher,  which 
Pepinpierre  had  so  warmly  recommended 
as  a  belvedere.  I  thought  one  peak  a 
day  would  be  sufficient,  even  for  treasure- 
hunters,  and  I  wanted  to  take  the  nearer 
and  lesser  eminence  first  But  Thatcher 
had  apparently  not  even  listened  to  my 
objections,  as  he  strode  onward  straining 
his  eyes  hillward  as  if  he  would  look  into 
the  very  bowels  of  the  mountain,  for  he 
leaped  from  his  thoughts  into  conversa- 
tion, and  said,  excitedly : 

"  And  did  you  hear  what  he  called 
it? — La  Grande  Vigie — 'watch  hill,'  the 
'  great  watch  hill ' — the  place  where  they 
used  to  watch  for  ships,  I  suppose — just 
the  place  for  a  flag-staff  or  a  signal-mast 
of  some  kind.  More  than  likely  it's  the 
very  place  we're  looking  for !  And,  if  you 
want  to  know  it,  that's  why  I  say  it  looks 

like  the  hand  of  Providence !" 

150 


A  BAD  START 

"  Rot !"  I  replied,  somewhat  impatient- 
ly. "The  signal -station  is  on  Galantry 
Head,  don't  you  see?"  And  I  pointed 
towards  the  bold  headland  far  across  the 
harbor,  which  we  could  now  plainly  see 
over  the  house-tops  below  us. 

"  It  is  now"  said  Thatcher,  "  but  it 
might  not  have  been  a  hundred  years 
ago.  It  seems  to  me  as  clear  as  day 
that,  back  in  those  times,  when  this  island 
was  seesawing  between  French  and  Brit- 
ish rule,  there  should  have  been  a  watch- 
ing-place  and  perhaps  a  signal-pole  on 
the  highest  available  peak.  Those  fellows 
would  not  watch  from  Galantry  when  they 
could  broaden  their  sphere  of  observa- 
tion by  fifty  square  miles  by  climbing 
La  Grande  Vigie.  And  that's  just  what 
Grande  Vigie  means !  Come  on  !" 

Thus  Thatcher  persisted  m  his  deter- 
mination to  ascend  the  taller  peak,  and, 
for  the  sake  of  peace,  I  surrendered  to  his 
whim. 

151 


CHAPTER   XIV 
THE    SUMMIT    OF    AN    ISLAND    PEAK 

LEAVING  the  town  well  arear,  we  struck 
out  across  Calvary  Hill,  where  stands  the 
conventional  gaunt  crucifix,  facing  sea- 
ward (the  kind  of  cross  we  had  hoped  to 
find  on  I'lle  aux  Chiens,  and  doubtless  a 
counterpart  of  one  that  stood  there  in  the 
early  days  of  the  island's  settlement),  and 
turned  into  the  Route  Iphigenie,  a  broad, 
well -laid  highway  that  runs  across  the 
island  to  1'Anse  de  Savoyard.  We  fol- 
lowed the  road  as  far  as  the  sailors'  monu- 
ment, then  struck  off  to  the  right  and 
slashed  our  way  through  the  underbrush 
towards  the  foot-hills.  This  underbrush 
was  about  the  only  vegetable  growth  we 
saw  on  St.  Pierre.  It  is  neither  tree  nor 
152 


THE  SUMMIT  OF  AN   ISLAND  PEAK 

bush,  but  a  sort  of  gnarled  root,  of  the 
pine  family,  I  judge,  that  clings  to  the 
interstices  of  the  rocks,  and  in  some  places 
rises  to  a  height  of  about  two  feet  from 
the  surface.  It  must  be  a  hardy  plant  to 
thrive  on  such  a  stony  bed,  and  it  is  tough, 
as  we  learned  to  our  cost.  There  was  no 
path,  of  course ;  we  had  to  pick  our  way 
laboriously  over  the  bowlders,  slipping 
here  and  there  up  to  our  ankles  into  some 
little  rill  or  spring  that  lurked  beneath  a 
web  of  twisted  roots  and  withered  foliage. 
Thatcher's  rich  and  expressive  vocabulary 
of  expletives  afforded  us  both  consider- 
able relief  from  time  to  time,  and  at  in- 
tervals we  sat  ourselves  down  and  rested. 
For  over  an  hour  we  struggled  along  in 
this  way,  now  pulling  ourselves  up  the 
face  of  the  mountain  and  now  leaping 
from  cliff  to  cliff  across  the  tiny  valleys 
that  seamed  the  hill-side ;  and  at  each 
pause  for  breath  we  gazed  back  upon  the 
beautiful  panorama  behind  us — the  little 
153 


FOUR  FOR  A   FORTUNE 

town  lying  far  below;  the  silent  harbor, 
where  vessels  seemed  to  glide  noiselessly 
about  like  toy  craft;  and, beyond, the  great 
broad  ocean,  all  peaceful  and  blue,  stretch- 
ing away  on  every  side  until  it  fell  into 
the  curtain  of  the  sky.  To  the  north  rose 
the  dull  cliffage  of  Newfoundland,  bleak 
and  gray-green — yet  a  streak  of  compan- 
ionship in  this  vast  loneliness. 

As  we  neared  the  summit  of  La  Grande 
Vigie  we  obtained  a  good  view  of  the 
other  islands  of  the  group — Grande  Mi- 
quelon  and  Langlade,  which  rises  sheer 
from  the  water.  But  the  afternoon  was 
wearing  on  and  no  time  afforded  for  view- 
gazing.  We  hastened  upon  our  journey 
in  such  degree  as  we  could.  We  had 
half-circled  the  peak  in  easing  our  ascent, 
and  thus  we  crawled  upon  its  very  summit 
from  the  rear.  A  great  gale  was  blowing 
there,  and  \ve  were  forced  to  thrust  our 
heads  snugly  into  our  hats  and  lean  for- 
ward against  the  support  of  the  blast. 
154 


THE  SUMMIT  OF  AN   ISLAND   PEAK 

But  the  sensation  was  invigorating  and 
exulting,  and  the  view  well  worthy  the 
efforts  we  had  made  to  obtain  it.  We 
felt  under  obligations  to  our  friend  Pepin- 
pierre. 

The  summit  of  this  peak  looks  exceed- 
ingly pointed  and  sharp  when  seen  from 
the  sea  or  from  the  town  below.  This  is 
due  to  the  fact  that  the  topmost  part  of 
the  eminence  is  formed  of  one  huge  rock 
that  juts  upward  some  fifteen  or  twenty 
feet,  naked,  out  of  a  scramble  of  lesser 
bowlders  and  moss  and  gnarled  roots. 
The  platform  of  its  summit  extends  no 
more  than  half  a  dozen  square  yards, 
sloping  off  steeply  on  the  Langlade  side, 
but  dropping  abruptly  and  perpendicu- 
larly where  it  faces  the  town  and  the 
harbor.  Upon  the  edge  of  this  declivity 
we  sat  and  swung  our  legs  to  the  winds 
over  the  face  of  the  cliff,  and  after  much 
strife  with  the  gale  we  succeeded  in  light- 
ing our  pipes. 

155 


FOUR  FOR  A   FORTUNE 

"  There's  one  thing  sure,"  said  I,  when 
I  had  regained  my  breath ;  "  the  fellow 
who  lugged  his  treasure  up  here  to  hide 
it  was  a  duffer." 

"  Either  he  was  a  duffer,"  admitted 
Thatcher,  "  or  he  needed  exercise,  and 
had  lots  of  time — " 

"  Or  mighty  little  gold  !" 

"  Yes,  or  mighty  little  gold,"  he  re- 
peated, pensively ;  and  then  we  sat  there 
for  some  minutes  and  gazed  out  silently 
over  the  sea. 

When  we  had  well  rested  of  our  ascent, 
we  began  to  look  about  us  and  to  exam- 
ine the  surface  of  the  elevation  upon 
which  we  sat.  It  was  rough  and  ribbed 
with  clefts  and  crevices,  and  spotted  here 
and  there  with  little  patches  of  green  and 
yellow  moss. 

"  There  is  no  indication,  so  far  as  I  can 
see,  of  there  ever  having  been  a  mast  or 
signal -pole  up  here,"  observed  Thatch- 
er. "  To  withstand  the  gales  that  must 
156 


THE  SUMMIT  OF   AN   ISLAND   PEAK 

whistle  over  this  peak,  a  flag-pole  would 
have  to  be  a  pretty  stout  one,  and  it 
would  need  some  mighty  solid  supports." 

"  Indeed  it  would,"  said  I ;  "  but  let  us 
climb  down  to  the  foot  of  this  pedestal 
and  see  what  there  is,  and  then  let's  put 
for  home ;  it's  getting  late." 

We  slid  cautiously  down  the  incline  and 
scrambled  carefully  around  the  base  of  the 
huge  rock,  stumbling  over  roots  and  sharp 
branches  to  the  peril  of  our  clothing. 
Thatcher  was  in  the  van,  and  he  first 
turned  the  corner  that  brought  him  upon 
the  little  plateau  which  formed  a  sort  of 
shelf  in  front  of  the  perpendicular  face  of 
the  cliff.  The  gale  was  crying  aloud  at 
this  point  and  conversation  was  almost 
impossible,  and  although  from  where  I 
stood  panting  I  could  plainly  see  him,  I 
could  hear  no  word  he  spoke. 

Accordingly,  I  thought  he  had  fallen 
suddenly  demented  when  I  saw  him 
throw  his  arms  violently  into  the  air  and 
157 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

leap  about  like  a  wild  man,  his  face  dis- 
torted and  strange  sounds  issuing  from 
his  throat.  His  hat  fell  to  the  ground 
and  rolled  away  a  toy  to  the  winds,  curl- 
ing in  the  air  and  bobbing  from  bowlder 
to  bowlder  down  the  hill-side,  and  his  hair, 
freed  of  restraint,  waved  in  disorder,  giv- 
ing his  countenance  a  fierce  and  uncouth 
appearance.  I  was  spellbound  for  a  brief 
space  and  then  hastened  to  his  side.  He 
was  still  shouting  incoherently,  and  when 
I  drew  near  he  seized  me  by  the  arm  and 
pointed  excitedly  to  a  large  iron  band 
welded  into  the  face  of  the  rock.  I,  too, 
then  felt  the  thrill  that  had  shot  through 
Thatcher,  but  with  me  the  outward  ex- 
pression of  feeling  took  another  and  en- 
tirely opposite  form,  for  all  I  could  do  was 
to  gasp  and  lean  heavily  against  the  rocky 
wall  in  silence.  My  sensations  were  simi- 
lar to  those  that  had  welled  up  in  me  the 
day  we  located  the  island  in  the  directory 
at  the  Hotel  Martin  in  New  York,  only 
158 


I  THOUGHT  THATCHER   HAD   GONE   MAD 


THE  SUMMIT  OF  AN   ISLAND   PEAK 

fiercer,  a  hundredfold.  The  gale  buzzed 
in  my  ears  and  I  heard  nothing  for  some 
seconds,  but  soon  I  was  brought  to  a 
realization  of  my  surroundings  again  by  a 
flood  of  hilarious  profanity  from  Thatcher. 
When  we  had  somewhat  recovered  from 
this  first  explosion  of  our  astonishment 
and  joy,  we  examined  the  iron  fastening 
more  closely.  It  was  very  rusty,  and  in 
some  parts  the  metal  had  caked  deeply 
and  had  fallen  away ;  nevertheless,  the 
heavy  band — some  half  an  inch  thick  and 
almost  two  inches  wide  —  was  firm  and 
solid  in  its  hold  upon  the  cliff,  and  bowed 
outward  in  the  form  of  a  rude  semicircle, 
standing  some  eighteen  inches  from  the 
stone  at  the  most  distant  point.  It  was 
fixed  in  the  rock  at  the  height  of  our 
shoulders,  and  there  could  be  no  possible 
doubt  from  its  formation,  and  from  the 
markings  on  the  face  of  the  cliff,  that 
here  had  stood,  at  some  time,  a  pole,  held 
firmly  in  place  by  this  band. 
159 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

A  further  and  more  careful  examina- 
tion brought  new  cries  of  joy  to  our  lips, 
for  we  found,  about  four  feet  lower  down, 
the  remains  of  a  similar  brace  or  band 
that  had  apparently  long  ago  been  bent 
back  and  broken. 

"  Is  there  any  doubt  in  your  mind  about 
what  this  is?"  asked  Thatcher,  wildly,  as 
he  rose  to  his  feet  again  from  examining 
the  remnants  of  the  lower  brace. 

"  It  certainly  looks  very  much  as  if  we 
had  struck  something !"  I  shouted  back. 

"  My  boy,"  he  cried,  "  we  are  standing 
within  twenty -five  yards  of  a  fortune!" 
and  he  waved  his  hand  across  the  horizon. 
"  That  gold  is  almost  in  our  clutches !" 

"  If  it  is  not  already  in  somebody's  else," 
I  said. 

"Oh,  shut  up!"  he  retorted,  roughly, 
turning  upon  me.  "  Don't  spoil  the  de- 
light of  these  moments.  We  may  have 
started  badly  this  morning,  but  we've 
brought  the  afternoon  to  a  glorious  close." 

160 


THE  SUMMIT  OF  AN  ISLAND  PEAK 

"  I  do  feel  hopeful,"  I  said. 

"  Of  course  you  do.  Then  don't  croak ! 
What  did  I  tell  you  about  the  hand  of 
Providence  ?  Do  you  believe  now  I  had 
reason  to  feel  that  way  ?" 

"  I  wish  I  were  a  more  pious  man," 
I  said.  But  Thatcher  only  laughed 
hysterically  and  pounded  me  on  the 
back. 

The  sun  was  now  hanging  low  over  a 
cloud-bank  in  the  west,  and  we  knew  we 
must  hasten  from  the  mountain  before 
darkness  fell  or  we  might  become  lost. 
A  few  last  glances  at  the  iron  bands — 
unimportant  bits  of  rust  to  all  the  world 
but  us  —  and  we  turned  away  from  the 
summit  of  La  Grande  Vigie,  picking  our 
way  down  the  steep,  stony  hill -side  tow- 
ards the  hazy  town  below  us.  As  we 
sat  in  the  Cafe  du  Midi  an  hour  later, 
Thatcher,  with  a  tall  glass  full  of  a  pale- 
green  fluid  before  him,  leaned  across  the 
marble  -  topped  table,  and,  placing  his 


FOUR  FOR   A  FORTUNE 

hand   on   mine,  said,  with   a  chuckle    of 
content: 

"  All  the  same,  old  man,  this  is  pretty 
good  work  for  our  first  day  in  St.  Pierre." 
And,  all  things  considered,  it  was. 


CHAPTER   XV 
A    PROBLEM    IN    GEOMETRY 

WE  had  confidently  counted  upon  find- 
ing the  Merry  Madge  anchored  in  the 
barachois,  or  inner  harbor,  when  we 
strolled  down  to  the  port  the  next  morn- 
ing, but  our  expectations  were  not  ful- 
filled. The  broad  ocean  heaved  lazily  in 
the  offing  under  a  windless  pall  of  mist, 
and  a  fleet  of  clumsy  luggers  hung  flap- 
ping helplessly  in  the  channel.  Doubt- 
less McLeod  lay  below  the  horizon  some- 
where, whistling  for  a  breeze,  and  until  his 
arrival  with  our  reinforcements  there  was 
little  for  us  to  do.  But  the  atmosphere 
of  St.  Pierre  made  us  almost  content  to 
rest  upon  our  oars.  Idleness  in  a  French 

town  is  never  irksome,  and  so  we  whiled 
163 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

away  that  Saturday  pleasantly  enough, 
albeit  our  minds  were  in  no  sense  upon 
the  dalliance  of  the  hour. 

On  Sunday  morning,  when  again  we 
looked  for  the  Merry  Madge,  she  had  not 
arrived,  nor  did  she  appear  in  the  after- 
noon. We  began  to  grow  somewhat  im- 
patient, not  to  say  apprehensive.  But  on 
Monday  morning,  when  we  walked  down 
to  the  quay,  one  of  the  first  men  we  met 
was  Captain  John  McLeod. 

"  We  had  regular  fisherman's  weather 
all  the  way,"  he  explained,  as  we  shook 
hands  all  around.  "  But  I  don't  suppose 
the  delay  makes  any  difference  to  you  ?" 

"  It's  just  as  well  you  got  here,"  an- 
swered Thatcher.  "  We  may  not  want 
to  stay  longer  than  a  week  now.  Where 
are  you  tied  up  ?" 

"  I'm  anchored,"  said  the  captain,  and 
as  this  point  in  the  conversation  had 
brought  us  opposite  to  a  little  building, 

over  the  door  of  which  appeared  the  le- 
164 


A   PROBLEM   IN   GEOMETRY 

gend,  '•'Assurance  Contre  la  Soif"  we 
stepped  inside  and  sat  down  and  effected 
insurance.  McLeod  told  us  of  his  trip 
across  from  Cape  Breton.  It  seems  that 
all  went  well  enough  until  the  schooner 
got  becalmed  the  second  day  out,  and 
that  afternoon  Carquemort  turned  up 
drunk  for  his  watch.  He  was  not  wholly 
incapacitated  for  work,  but  he  was  sullen 
and  stubborn,  and  came  very  nearly  being 
insubordinate  when  McLeod  went  into 
the  fo'c'sle  and  found  Semsen  with  the  bot- 
tle that  Carquemort  had  nearly  emptied. 

"  I  took  it  away  from  him  and  chucked 
it  overboard,"  continued  McLeod  ;  "  but  I 
tell  you,  now :  I  don't  hook  to  that  Crack- 
mug  fellow,  and  there  never  was  any  good 
in  a  Finn.  Howsomever,  we  got  along  all 
right  when  the  wind  came  up  —  and  I 
guess  we'd  'a'  got  along  all  right  anyhow." 

The  conversation  turned  to  the  unload- 
ing of  the  schooner,  and  it  was  decided 
that  this  should  be  done  within  the  next 
165 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

two  days,  in  order  that  the  Merry  Madge 
might  be  at  our  disposal  by  that  time  if 
we  should  be  ready.  Our  Frenchmen 
and  the  rest  of  the  crew  having  remained 
aboard  the  schooner,  which  lay  in  the 
outer  harbor,  Thatcher  and  I  took  a  boat 
and  rowed  out  to  the  anchorage,  while 
McLeod  made  arrangements  for  docking. 
Chiffard  was  truly  delighted  to  see  us, 
but  Carquemort's  welcome  was  somewhat 
tempered  with  a  suspicion  that  we  had 
perhaps  secured  all  the  gold  since  our  ar- 
rival, and  had  stowed  it  away  to  his  spoli- 
ation. We  led  the  way  into  the  little 
cabin,  and  all  four  sat  down  to  the  narrow 
table  under  the  skylight,  the  Frenchmen 
eager  and  aglow  with  curiosity,  while 
Thatcher  affected  an  air  of  mystery  which 
seemed  only  to  increase  Carquemort's  ill- 
concealed  anxiety.  In  as  few  words  as 
possible  we  told  them  of  our  ascent  of  La 
Grande  Vigie,  and  of  the  discovery  of  the 
iron  rings  welded  into  the  rock. 

1 66 


A   PROBLEM   IN    GEOMETRY 

"  C'est  bien  fa  le  mat  T  cried  Chiffard, 

almost  beside    himself.     "El  la  cachette, 
* 

vous  I'avez  trouvee?" 

We  were  forced  to  admit  that  we  had 
not,  and  Thatcher  sternly  bade  both  men 
remain  quiet  until  he  could  explain  the 
situation  to  them  and  show  just  what  re- 
mained to  be  done.  In  order  to  make 
this  plainer,  he  produced  a  rough  sketch 
which  he  had  made  the  night  before,  and 
laid  it  out  upon  the  table  before  us. 

"  Here  you  have  the  island  of  St. 
Pierre,"  he  said,  "  and  the  small  island  to 
the  right  of  it,  marked  B,  is  1'Ile  aux 
Chiens.  We  are  taking  it  for  granted  now 
that  the  rock  we  came  upon  yesterday  is 
the  place  where  the  mat,  mentioned  on 
Carquemort's  chart,  originally  stood.  We 
will  call  this  spot  A.  Now  then,  the  chart- 
maker  laid  out  a  straight  line  from  A  to 
some  point  on  B  that  we  are  unable  to 
locate ;  but  we  know  for  certain  that  the 

landmark  he  took  was  on  the  island  B. 
167 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

It  was  neither  to  the  north  of  it  nor  to  the 
south  of  it,  to  the  east  of  it  nor  to  the  west 
of  it.  Therefore  if  we  lay  out  a  line  A  C 
as  one  limit  of  the  space  within  which  the 
cross  he  mentions  could  have  been,  and 


D 


another  line  A  D  as  the  other  limit,  we 
enclose  on  St.  Pierre  a  narrow  area  with- 
in which  the  cachette  must  lie." 

Carquemort  could  not  understand  this 
at  first,  but  Thatcher  drew  other  diagrams, 
with  pictures  of  poles  and  crosses  and 

168 


A  PROBLEM  IN  GEOMETRY 

other  scenery,  so  that  the  man  finally  got 
it  through  his  stupid  head. 

"  Now,"  continued  Thatcher,  "we  know 
that  the  treasure  was  concealed  at  a  point 
twenty -five  paces  from  A.  Therefore,  if 
we  measure  off  twenty-five  paces,  A  E,  on 
A  D,  and  twenty-five  paces,  A  F,  on  A  C, 
and  describe  the  arc  E  F,  that  arc  passes 
over  the  cachette  /" 

This  last  mathematics,  however,  were 
too  much  for  our  sailorman  and  cook,  as 
I  had  warned  Thatcher  that  they  would 
be ;  but  finally,  after  much  talking,  we 
made  it  clear  to  them  that  1'Ile  aux  Chiens, 
as  seen  from  La  Grand  Vigie,  looks  very 
small,  and  that  imaginary  lines  drawn  from 
the  rock  to  the  extremities  of  the  island 
would  still  be  very  close  together  even  at 
twenty-five  paces  from  the  apex  of  the 
triangle  ;  and  that  consequently  the  arc, 
when  described,  must  fortunately  be  a 
small  one.  As  soon  as  we  had  made  them 

understand  this,  they  wanted  to  land  at 
169 


FOUR   FOR  A  FORTUNE 

once  and  climb  the  hill,  and  lay  out  the 
survey  and  fall  to  with  shovel  and  pick. 
We  were  no  less  anxious  to  get  to  work 
than  they,  but  we  had  made  the  ascent 
of  the  hill,  and  we  knew  what  lay  before 
us ;  consequently  we  persuaded  the  men 
to  dine  first  and  to  meet  us  at  one  o'clock 
on  the  quay,  bringing  with  them  a  pick 
each.  This  much  accomplished,  we  rowed 
back  to  the  town,  crossing  McLeod  on 
the  way,  and  delaying  long  enough  to  in- 
form him  of  the  orders  we  had  left  with 
the  men.  These  suited  him  well  enough, 
for  he  had  found  he  could  not  dock  until 
the  morrow. 

Chiffard  and  Carquemort  were  awaiting 
us  when  we  came  down  to  the  water-front 
from  our  lodgings.  They  had  the  picks 
in  a  huge  sack  which,  during  the  ascent 
of  La  Grande  Vigie,  they  took  turns  in 
carrying.  The  only  impediments  we 
brought  were  a  small  telescope  that 

Thatcher  had  borrowed  from  a  junkman 
170 


A  PROBLEM  IN  GEOMETRY 

of  the  village,  a  ball  of  thick  twine,  along 
a  section  of  which  we  had  measured 
twenty-five  paces,  and  half  a  dozen  sharp 
pine  stakes  for  markers. 

The  day  was  not  so  clear  as  Saturday 
had  been,  and  by  the  time  we  were  half- 
way to  the  top  of  the  hill  the  village  was  al- 
most hidden  in  a  light  haze  that  came  float- 
ing in  from  the  sea ;  the  sun  was  clouded, 
but  there  was  little  wind,  and,  the  wise- 
acres had  told  us,  no  prospect  of  a  heavy 
fog  coming  on  before  night  to  bewilder  us 
in  the  mountain.  Poor  Chiffard  snorted 
and  perspired  as  he  clambered  up  the 
steeps,  and  cast  imprecations  upon  the 
head  of  the  muffle  who  had  chosen  such 
an  unheard-of  place  to  hide  his  treasure. 
Carquemort  was  perfectly  taciturn ;  I  be- 
lieve he  expected  to  find  at  the  summit 
evidence  that  Thatcher  and  I  had  already 
done  away  with  the  gold ;  and  I  have  no 
doubt  that  if  he  had  he  would  unhesitat- 
ingly have  done  away  with  us. 
171 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

The  sight  of  the  rusty  iron  bands  when 
we  reached  the  summit  threw  the  two  men 
into  renewed  excitement,  and  they  were 
unwilling  to  sit  down  even  for  a  brief 
space  to  rest  from  the  exertions  of  the 
ascent.  But  this  they  were  compelled  to 
do,  for  their  picks  were  of  little  avail  un- 
less they  knew  in  what  spot  to  dig,  and 
of  this  Thatcher  refused  to  give  any  in- 
formation until  he  had  smoked  a  pipe 
within  the  shelter  of  the  cliff.  During 
this  respite  he  demonstrated  practically 
to  our  followers  the  geometry  he  had  been 
trying  to  make  them  understand  in  the 
cabin  of  the  Merry  Madge  earlier  in  the 
day,  and  we  were  even  surprised  our- 
selves to  note  how  very  small  an  arc  it 
would  be  necessary  to  describe,  1'Ile  aux 
Chiens  appearing  almost  insignificant  in 
the  glimpses  we  managed  to  catch  of  it 
through  the  rifts  in  the  haze. 

O 

The  measurements  were  rapidly  made 

as    soon    as    we    set    about    our    work. 
172 


A  PROBLEM  IN  GEOMETRY 

Thatcher  lay  at  full  length  on  the  top  of 
the  rock  and  took  the  upper  end  of  1'Ile 
aux  Chiens  through  his  telescope,  while 
I,  holding  one  end  of  the  measured  twine, 
the  other  being  fastened  to  the  lower  iron 
band,  stood  off  twenty-five  paces  and  drove 
a  pine  stake  into  the  hill-side  at  the  spot 
indicated  by  the  surveyor.  The  same 
method  was  pursued  to  lay  out  the  line 
to  the  lower  extremity  of  the  distant  isle, 
and  after  that  it  was  a  simple  matter  to 
describe  the  necessary  arc,  driving  stakes 
every  few  feet.  Carquemort  and  Chiffard 
thought  we  must  be  off  in  our  mathemat- 
ics ;  however,  this  did  not  deter  them 
from  wanting  to  begin  digging  at  once. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
A     DAY     OF     TOIL 

IT  will  be  remembered  that  the  instruc- 
tions on  Carquemort's  chart  were  to  the 
effect  that,  after  pacing  off  twenty -five 
steps  from  the  mat,  something  was  to  be 
done  with  a  stone,  prior  to  digging ;  or  per- 
haps it  was  intended  that  some  digging 
was  to  be  done  with  relation  to  the  posi- 
tion of  a  certain  rock.  This  part  of  the 
sentence  we  had  been  unable  to  restore, 
and  had  counted  upon  deriving  inspiration 
for  our  actions  from  the  lay  of  the  land  at 
twenty-five  paces  from  the  flag-pole,  when 
we  should  have  found  the  mat.  There 
was  little  inspiration  to  be  derived  from 
that  hill-top,  however,  for  it  consisted  al- 
most entirely  of  huge  bowlders  scattered 
174 


A  DAY  OF  TOIL 

pell-mell  one  upon  another,  most  of  the 
rocks  weighing  many  tons.  Therefore 
we  determined,  after  a  careful  survey  of 
the  premises,  to  clear  a  space  for  a  width 
of  a  few  feet,  along  the  arc  we  had  laid 
out,  of  all  stones  that  could  be  moved  by 
means  of  such  tools  as  we  had  at  our  dis- 
posal, and  to  frame  our  future  course  in 
regard  to  the  larger  rocks  as  conditions 
might  suggest. 

The  four  of  us  set  to  work  forthwith, 
but  the  labor  was  by  no  means  a  light  task, 
and  dusk  was  upon  us  before  we  had  half 
completed  it.  We  were  consequently 
forced  to  leave  it  unfinished  and  return  to 
the  village,  after  concealing  our  picks 
under  a  tuft  of  dwarf  pine.  We  felt  no 
anxiety  of  their  being  stolen  during  our 
absence,  and  we  doubted  even  if  any  St. 
Pierrese  would  climb  to  the  top  of  La 
Grande  Vigie  at  any  time  during  the  next 
month — or  during  the  year,  for  that  mat- 
ter ;  but  we  wished  to  take  every  precau- 
175 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

tion  that  the  suspicions  of  the  natives 
might  not  be  aroused.  What  we  feared 
most  in  the  future  was  that  the  daily 
ascent  of  the  mountain  by  us,  strangers, 
would  soon  be  noticed  and  commented 
upon,  and  perhaps  eventually  investigated. 
But  we  subsequently  got  around  this  ob- 
stacle by  giving  out  that  Thatcher  was 
painting  a  picture — a  view  of  St.  Pierre 
from  the  mountain -side.  The  only  un- 
pleasant feature  of  this  fabrication  was 
that  we  had  to  carry  a  box  of  alleged  ar- 
tist's materials  up  the  mountain  at  our 
every  excursion  ;  but  the  box  usually  con- 
tained more  palatable  delicacies  than  oil- 
paints,  and  as  no  one  ever  asked  to  see 
the  fabled  picture,  we  felt  that  our  ruse  had 
been  successful  with  the  simple-minded 
fisherfolk. 

The  next  morning,  Tuesday,  we  were 
on  La  Grande  Vigie  by  ten  o'clock, 
Carquemort  and  Chiffard  joining  us  about 

half  an  hour  later,  as  we  had  made  them 
176 


A  DAY  OF  TOIL 

take  a  roundabout  road  of  approach — our 
constant  effort  being  to  avoid  attracting 
attention  to  our  movements,  or  our  rela- 
tions with  these  men.  Our  tools  were 
augmented  by  a  crow-bar,  a  small  sledge- 
hammer, and  two  spades,  but  even  with 
these  additional  aids  it  took  us  the  entire 
day  to  clear  away  the  shrubs  and  rocks 
that  lay  in  the  small  territory  under  in- 
vestigation. By  the  time  we  knocked  off, 
however,  there  were  only  five  bowlders  of 
too  great  a  size  to  be  moved,  even  by  our 
combined  efforts,  and  we  left  it  until  the 
morrow  to  determine  against  which  we 
should  aim  our  first  serious  attack. 

At  the  council  we  held  that  evening  in 
the  cafe,  Chiffard  urged  the  use  of  dyn- 
amite at  once  upon  all  the  rocks,  this  plan 
being  warmly  seconded  by  Carquemort. 
The  latter  even  volunteered  to  place  the 
explosives  and  to  ignite  the  fuses.  But  we 
demurred  strongly  to  this,  more  on  ac- 
count of  the  danger  of  discovery  than  for 

M  177 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

any  other  reason,  for  we  feared  that  even 
if  we  waited  until  a  stormy  night  the  ex- 
plosion of  five  dynamite  cartridges,  or  of 
a  single  one,  distant  as  the  mountain-top 
was,  would  startle  the  French  govern- 
ment for  a  certainty,  and  probably  result 
in  a  search  into  the  cause  of  such  an  un- 
usual detonation  that  must  redound  to  our 
discomfiture.  I  finally  suggested  that  we 
select  the  rock  most  likely  to  be  the  one 
we  wished  to  dislodge,  for  we  had  con- 
cluded that  the  treasure  was  probably 
under  or  near  one  of  the  five  great  rocks, 
and  dig  around  its  base  to  a  depth  of 
several  feet.  My  contention  was  that  if  a 
bowlder  had  been  placed  over  the  cachette, 
we  should  thus  make  sure  of  that  fact  by 
digging  to  its  base,  whereas  if  the  bowlder 
were  not  the  one  mentioned  in  the  chart 
it  would  probably  extend  to  a  considerable 
depth  below  the  surface,  having  been  a 
feature  of  the  landscape  at  the  time  the 

treasure  was  buried.     The  event  proved 

178 


A  DAY  OF  TOIL 

that  this  plan  was  a  wise  plan,  for  it  did 
away  with  the  use  of  explosives  and  led 
us  to  make  the  discovery  we  had  travelled 
so  far  to  attempt. 

We  started  in  at  the  same  hour  the  fol- 
lowing morning,  Wednesday,  upon  the 
labor  of  displacing  the  rock  nearest  the 
centre  of  the  space  we  had  cleared.  The 
work  was  of  the  hardest  kind  we  had  yet 
been  forced  to  undertake,  for  the  bowlder 
was  wedged  in  by  a  quantity  of  smaller 
rocks — small  by  comparison  only — weigh- 
ing on  an  average  from  400  to  500  pounds 
each.  These  we  had  first  to  loosen  in 
their  beds  and  then,  by  the  severest  kind 
of  exertion,  lift  out  of  their  emplacements 
and  roll  away.  It  was  only  possible  for 
three  of  us  to  work  at  a  time,  it  having 
been  considered  wisest  for  one  man  to 
remain  constantly  on  watch  against  the 
approach  of  strangers.  This  method,  how- 
ever, had  the  advantage  of  affording  to 

each  one  of  us  a  chance  for  rest  at  fre- 
179 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

quent  intervals.  By  dusk  we  had  cleared 
a  ditch  some  two  feet  deep  half  -  way 
around  the  great  stone.  We  must  have 
handled  several  tons  of  porphyry  that  day. 
And  the  exertion  proved  too  much  for 
us,  for  on  the  following  morning  both 
Thatcher  and  I  were  entirely  played  out 
— lame,  stiff,  and  sore — and  we  determined 
that  this  day  should  be  taken  for  rest.  I 
think  Chiffard  and  Carquemort  were  not 
displeased  at  the  announcement. 

In  this  manner  we  also  secured  an  op- 
portunity to  have  some  intercourse  with 
Captain  McLeod,  whom  we  had  scarcely 
seen  since  the  day  of  his  arrival ;  and 
when  we  learned  that  the  Merry  Madge 
was  now  unloaded  and  prepared  to  take 
on  cod  as  soon  as  we  gave  the  word,  we 
bade  our  skipper  wait  until  Monday,  when 
we  hoped  to  be  able  to  give  him  some 
definite  information  concerning  our  fut- 
ure plans. 

It  so  happened,  however,  that  we  went 

180 


A  DAY   OF  TOIL 

aboard  of  the  Merry  Madge  hastily  the 
following  evening  and,  by  force  of  cir- 
cumstances, confided  to  McLeod  the 
complete  facts  concerning  our  enterprise. 
As  a  result,  the  little  schooner  found  her- 
self, early  Saturday  morning,  anchored  in 
1'Anse  de  Savoyard — a  little  bay  on  the 
southern  coast  of  the  island  —  and  we 
then  entered  upon  one  of  the  most  thrill- 
ing labors  that  I  ever  was,  or  expect  to 
be,  called  upon  to  perform  during  my  life. 
But  I  am  anticipating. 


CHAPTER     XVII 
THE    SECRET    OF   THE    CHART 

WE  rested  all  day  Thursday,  as  I  have 
said,  and  on  Friday  morning,  at  the  usual 
hour,  we  were  again  at  our  rock-digging 
with  renewed  strength  and  energy.  The 
day  was  quite  foggy  and  the  town  below 
was  completely  hidden  from  our  view — 
and  we  from  the  people's! — but  we  had 
now  become  so  familiar  with  the  path  of 
ascent  and  descent  that  we  no  longer 
feared  becoming  lost  in  the  mist.  Conse- 
quently, we  were  pleased  with  the  weather 
conditions,  and  all  worked  steadily  and 
persistently  at  lifting  bowlders  and  rolling 
them  from  their  beds  down  into  the  bush- 
grown  clefts  of  the  hill-side  below  us. 

It  must  have  been  shortly  after  mid- 
182 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  CHART 

day,  and  just  about  time  for  us  to  knock 
off  work  to  sample  the  contents  of  Thatch- 
er's "paint-box,"  that  the  famous  dis- 
covery was  made  which  resulted  in  leav- 
ing the  "  paint-box  "  unopened  until  five 
o'clock  that  afternoon.  Chiffard  was 
knee-deep  in  the  ditch  that  we  had  dug 
around  the  big  bowlder,  puffing  and 
groaning  with  a  crow-bar,  when  the  thing 
slipped  and  was  swallowed  almost  to  its 
entire  length  into  the  hill-side.  The  cook 
fell  flat,  of  course,  and  bruised  himself, 
and  what  he  said  would  not  look  well  in 
print.  I  believe,  however,  that  the  man 
was  more  frightened  than  hurt,  for  he 
scrambled  out  of  the  ditch  and  called 
loudly  upon  Thatcher  and  me,  who  were 
laboring  like  a  pair  of  Sisyphi  at  rolling  a 
huge  rock.  When  we  came  to  him  and 
he  explained  what  had  happened,  pointing 
out  to  us  only  a  few  inches  of  the  handle 
of  the  crow-bar  above  ground,  we  realized 
that  he  had  struck  some  kind  of  a  hole, 
183 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

and  the  hope  that  it  might  be  the  cachette 
threw  us  again  into  one  of  those  frenzies 
of  excitement  that  had  overwhelmed  us 
on  one  or  two  previous  occasions  in  con- 
nection with  our  hunt  for  buried  treasure. 

Thatcher  leaped  into  the  ditch  and 
withdrew  the  crow-bar.  Then  he  fell 
upon  his  knees,  and  with  some  difficulty 
forced  his  hand  and  forearm  into  the 
crevice  through  which  the  tool  had  fallen. 

"  This  must  be  the  place !"  he  shouted, 
presently.  "  I  can't  feel  anything  below, 
but  there  is  certainly  a  large  chamber  of 
some  kind  here !  I  can  feel  the  top — it 
seems  to  be  a  flat  stone !" 

Then  he  made  way  for  me,  and  I  thrust 
my  arm  in  and  felt  about  in  the  dark  hol- 
low, and  afterwards  both  Chiffard  and 
Carquemort  did  likewise.  The  two  latter 
were  almost  beyond  control,  and  Carque- 
mort, in  his  eagerness  to  tear  away  the 
rocks  near  the  aperture,  labored  fiercely 
with  his  fingers  until  they  bled.  When, 
184 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE   CHART 

after  a  few  moments,  we  had  all  become 
almost  rational  again,  and  had  made  a 
closer  and  more  careful  examination  of 
the  crevice,  we  concluded  from  such  gen- 
eral indications  as  were  evident  that  Chif- 
fard,  by  a  fortunate  hazard,  had  sent  his 
crow-bar  into  a  hole  some  two  or  three 
feet  deep,  over  the  top  of  which  rested  a 
flat  stone.  The  bar  had  entered  just 
under  the  edge  of  this  stone,  and  by  re- 
moving: some  smaller  bowlders  in  a  new 

O 

direction  from  that  in  which  we  had  been 
working,  we  found  that  the  flat  rock  was 
about  three  feet  long  in  one  of  its  dimen- 
sions. Piled  above  it  were  stones  and 
earth  and  roots  some  two  feet  deep — 
an  accumulation  of  years,  doubtless,  and 
probably  an  artifice  of  concealment  as 
well. 

"  If  this  is  the  cachetic"  said  Thatcher, 
as  he  wiped  great  beads  of  perspiration 
from  his  brow,  "  we  have  come  upon  it 

from  the  side,  and  this  flat  rock  closes  the 

185 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

upper  orifice.  There  is  no  necessity  for 
removing  all  that  stuff  on  top.  Let  us 
now  widen  the  little  opening  we  have  al- 
ready made  until  we  can  see  or  reach 
inside  of  the  vault." 

But  this  was  not  so  easy  of  accomplish- 
ment as  our  enthusiasm  could  have  de- 
sired ;  nevertheless  excitement  lent  us  the 
power  of  Titans,  and  at  the  end  of  an 
hour  we  had  torn  away  a  couple  of  stones 
that  formed  a  part  of  the  side  wall  of  the 
hiding-place.  Then,  by  the  aid  of  light- 
ed matches,  we  saw  that  we  had  come 
upon  some  sort  of  an  artificial  chamber 
about  two  cubic  yards  in  capacity.  What 
the  chamber  contained,  however,  we  could 
not  then  ascertain ;  but  that  this  was  the 
cachette  we  no  longer  entertained  the 
slightest  doubt.  An  hour  more  of  per- 
sistent work  and  we  had  broken  an  open- 
ing about  two  feet  square,  through  which 
it  was  decided  that  one  of  us  must  thrust 
his  head  and  shoulders,  while  the  others 

1 86 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  CHART 

held  him  by  the  heels,  to  investigate  the 
interior  of  the  dark  chamber.  The  part 
of  imitating  Israel  Putnam  fell  to  me,  be- 
ing the  smallest  man  of  the  four,  and  I 
must  confess  that  it  was  with  considerable 
reluctance,  barely  tempered  by  the  hope 
of  bringing  gold  to  light,  that  I  finally 
consented  to  push  my  head  into  that 
black  hole  where  there  might  be  lurking 
some  strange  kind  of  danger,  the  nature 
of  which,  of  course,  I  was  unable  to  imag- 
ine, for  I  knew  there  were  no  snakes  on 
the  island  of  St.  Pierre. 

First,  I  placed  my  right  arm  through 
the  orifice  and  felt  about  in  the  darkness, 
and  then  I  lay  down  upon  my  stomach 
and  worked  my  head  slowly  under  the 
stones,  while  a  shower  of  pebbles  and  dirt 
rattled  over  my  face  and  down  my  neck, 
and  the  jagged  side  of  the  rocks  tore  my 
hair.  Carquemort  and  Thatcher  held  me 
firmly  by  the  feet,  and  Chiffard  jabbered 
volubly  in  helpless  idleness.  When  I  had 
187 


FOUR   FOR  A  FORTUNE 

worked  my  head  and  shoulders  well  with- 
in the  chamber  my  hand  touched  bottom, 
and  I  could  feel  stones  of  all  sizes,  or 
what  I  at  first  thought  to  be  stones ;  but 
the  large  ones  seemed  all  to  be  of  about 
the  same  size  and  smooth,  and  after  a  few 
seconds  of  careful  feeling  I  was  aware  that 
they  were  square  and  seemingly  arranged 
in  some  order.  I  felt  confident  then  that 
what  I  touched  was  not  stone,  but  gold  or 
silver — surely  metal  of  some  kind  in  bull- 
ion— and  although  I  burned  to  give  an 
expression  to  the  feelings  that  arose  in 
me,  I  soon  found  that  a  man  almost  throt- 
tled in  a  black,  airless  pit  is  physically 
unequal  to  rise  to  such  an  occasion.  But 
I  signalled  wildly  with  my  heels  to  be 
pulled  out,  and  when  finally  my  compan- 
ions got  me  to  the  surface  again  my 
clothes  were  torn,  my  face  and  head  were 
bleedinsr,  and  I  felt  as  if  I  were  almost 

O' 

suffocated.     All  I  could  say  was : 

"  Gold !  De  I  'or,  mes  amis  !   Gold  bars !" 

1 88 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  CHART 

In  spite  of  the  fact  that  we  had  labored 
for  so  many  weeks  to  find  this  cachetic, 
and  would  have  experienced  the  bitterest 
disappointment  if  we  had  never  discov- 
ered it — or,  if  found,  it  had  been  empty — 
none  of  the  three — Thatcher,  Carquemort, 
or  Chiffard  —  would  believe  that  what  I 
said  was  true ;  and  even  I  myself,  after  a 
few  seconds  of  daylight,  doubted  my  own 
senses.  So  it  came  that  I  was  almost 
forced  into  the  jagged  hole  again,  with 
injunctions  to  bring  out  the  gold  if  it  was 
really  there !  But  after  almost  bursting 
every  blood-vessel  in  my  head,  I  kicked 
for  rescue  once  more,  and  when  dragged 
back  to  the  fresh  air  had  only  succeeded 
in  partially  dislodging  one  of  the  heavy 
square  pieces  of  metal  that  lay  embedded 
in  the  bottom  of  the  chamber. 

In  spite  of  the  protestations  and  en- 
treaties of  the  others,  I  swore  that  I  would 
not  go  into  that  place  again  that  day,  and 

I  lay  down  upon  the  hill-side  to  recover 
189 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

from  my  efforts.  Carquemort  fell  at  once 
to  an  attack  upon  the  rocks  with  the 
sledge,  but  Chiffard  and  Thatcher  plied 
me  with  questions  —  and  brandy  —  and 
were  soon  themselves  executing  a  war- 
dance  that  appeared  to  me,  played  out  as 
I  was,  wholly  undignified  and  superfluous. 
I  shouted  to  them  that  they  would  do 
better  to  thrust  their  heads  into  the  pit 
and  derive  experience,  but  they  laughed 
at  me,  and  Chiffard  bawled  the  most 
absurd  statements  concerning  what  he 
intended  to  do  with  his  money  when  he 
got  back  to  New  York. 

No  further  progress  did  we  make  that 
day,  for  night  was  approaching.  We 
rolled  a  bowlder  over  the  opening  we 
had  made,  and  concealed  our  tools  and 
groped  our  path  down  the  mountain-side 
almost  in  darkness,  guided  by  the  twin- 
kling lights  of  the  town  and  by  the  great 
revolving  flash  on  Galantry  Head. 

We  dined  that  night  on  the  best  there 
190 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  CHART 

was  to  be  had  in  St.  Pierre  —  including 
the  driest  of  champagne,  that  had  never 
paid  duty ! — and  Chiffard  left  the  straight 
and  narrow  path  and  caroused  so  with 
that  beast  of  a  Carquemort  that  the  quiet 
streets  rang  with  their  vociferations,  until 
a  patrolling  gendarme  seized  them  and 
threw  them  bodily  on  board  of  the  Merry 
Madge,  that  lay  moored  at  the  quay. 

Thither,  too,  in  our  exuberance,  did.  we 
find  our  way ;  and  we  saw  our  allies 
sprawling  upon  the  forward  hatch.  We 
awakened  McLeod  and  bound  him  by 
great  oaths  to  secrecy,  and  told  him  of 
our  adventure,  for  we  knew  he  must  event- 
ually be  intrusted  with  our  confidence; 
and  although  he  thought  we  were  foolish 
with  wine  and  were  telling  him  a  prodig- 
ious yarn  to  shield  some  baser  undertak- 
ing, he  listened  discreetly  and  fell  in  with 
our  desires  like  the  true  man  that  he 
was. 

From  La  Grande  Vigie  we  had  noticed 
191 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

a  little  bay  which  juts  into  the  base  of  the 
hill  on  the  far  side  from  the  town,  and  at  a 
lesser  distance.  McLeod  told  us  this  was 
1'Anse  de  Savoyard,  a  convenient  anchor- 
age, especially  for  the  loading  of  the  qual- 
ity of  cod  he  expected  to  buy.  Here,  for 
the  first  time,  our  Scot  intimated  that  the 
cargo  he  intended  to  carry  away  would 
be  in  bottles  and  casks  rather  than  of 
quintals  of  salted  fish ;  and  as  the  pur- 
poses of  all  concerned  would  therefore  be 
the  better  served  by  a  greater  privacy,  it 
was  agreed  that  the  Merry  Madge  should 
put  into  1'Anse  de  Savoyard  early  the 
following  morning. 

Thus  it  was  that,  shortly  after  daylight, 
when  Chiffard  and  Carquemort  were 
brought  to  consciousness  by  the  heaving 
of  the  schooner  as  she  bobbed  over  the 
waves  before  a  spanking  breeze,  tacking 
out  to  sea,  with  Galantry  fading  on  the 
starboard  quarter,  the  two  men  thought 

we  had  bribed  McLeod  to  kidnap  them ; 
192 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  CHART 

and,  in  their  momentary  fury,  it  is  probable 
that  slaughter  was  only  averted  by  bring- 
ing the  Merry  Madge  about  and  pointing 
her  for  the  headland,  behind  which  she 
cast  anchor  an  hour  later  in  the  snug 
little  bay  of  Savoyard. 


CHAPTER     XVIII 
FORTUNES    FOR    FOUR 

ALTHOUGH  McLeod  put  no  faith  in  the 
tale  of  buried  treasure  we  had  spun  for 
him  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  he  felt 
confident  we  had  succeeded  in  whatever 
enterprise  had  led  us  to  the  lonely  shores 
of  St.  Pierre,  and  expressed  himself  as 
willing  to  assist  us  in  any  way  possible  in 
what  remained  to  be  done.  The  fisher- 
men who  lived  in  the  huts  along  the  edge 
of  the  cove,  he  said,  had  been  of  service 
to  him  before,  and  understood  perfectly 
the  nature  of  the  business  that  brought 
the  Merry  Madge  to  so  secluded  an 
anchorage.  This  was  good  news  for  us, 
for  we  had  feared  we  might  have  some 
difficulty  in  smuggling  our  booty  on 
194 


FORTUNES  FOR  FOUR 

board.  We  therefore  bade  our  skipper 
load  his  "  cod  "  with  expedition,  and  our- 
selves, with  Carquemort  and  Chiffard, 
again  sought  the  mountain-top. 

The  morning  was  spent  in  the  Hercu- 
lean task  of  enlarging  the  aperture  we 
had  already  made  under  the  flat  stone, 
and  by  noon  we  had  succeeded  in  making 
it  broad  enough  for  any  one  of  us  to  enter 
the  chamber  with  head  and  shoulders  so 
as  to  be  able  to  work  within  with  both 
hands.  Carquemort  was  assigned  to  the 
task  of  extracting  the  first  sample  of  our 
findings,  and  the  eager  expression  of  his 
face  as  he  kneeled  to  carry  out  this  task 
was  almost  beastlike  in  its  fierce  greed. 
He  heaved  and  wrestled  for  some  brief 
moments  with  the  thing  I  had  partial- 
ly dislodged  the  previous  afternoon,  and 
then  slowly  squirmed  backward  and  out- 
ward, assisted  by  us  all.  His  hands 
came  forth  last  from  the  darkness,  and 
clutched  between  them  was  an  oblong, 
195 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

yellowish-brown  colored  object  which  we 
all  recognized  at  once  as  an  ingot  of  solid 
gold! 

As  he  dropped  the  heavy  burden  upon 
the  ground  he  rolled  over  and  exclaimed, 
breathlessly  : 

"Bon  Dieu  !     Le  trou  en  est  plein!" 

The  realization  that  we  now  stood  face 
to  face  with  a  large  fortune — a  fortune, 
even  when  quartered,  sufficient  to  make 
each  one  of  us  independently  rich  for  the 
rest  of  his  life — did  not  affect  any  of  us  in 
the  manner  that  I  should  have  thought 
it  would.  We  all  took  the  climax  more 
or  less  calmly ;  and  I  suppose  this  was 
so  because  our  nerves  had  been  worked 
up  by  continuous  exciting  incidents  to 
a  pitch  where  failure  only  would  have 
snapped  their  tension. 

The  ingot  that  Carquemort  brought  to 
light  was  oblong  in  shape,  and  measured 
some  six  inches  in  length  by  four  in 

width  by  two  in  depth.     These  figures 
196 


FORTUNES  FOR  FOUR 

are  only  approximate,  for  we  never  act- 
ually measured  any  of  the  gold  bricks. 
We  weighed  two  or  three  that  night  and 
they  averaged  twenty-eight  pounds.  But 
of  this  more  later  on. 

As  soon  as  we  had  satisfied  our  curios- 
ity and  had  each  examined  and  fondled 
the  brick  over  and  over  again,  Carque- 
mort  was  sent  into  the  cachette  to  extract 
another.  He  had  less  difficulty  in  loosen- 
ing the  second  and  those  he  subsequently 
secured,  for  the  earth  and  pebbles  that 
had  cemented  the  upper  layer  of  ingots 
had  not  filtered  through  to  encumber  the 
others.  By  noon,  therefore,  we  had  a 
dozen  of  the  bricks  piled  before  us.  But 
such  a  profusion  of  treasure  made  us  cal- 
lous to  its  fascination,  and  we  actually  sat 
upon  the  gold  as  we  ate  our  luncheon  at 
noon,  talking  wild  and  hilarious  nonsense 
the  while.  Then,  taking  turns  at  the  la- 
bor, we  worked  until  the  sun  had  fallen 
low  and  over  fifty  tawny  bars  had  been 
197 


FOUR  FOR  A   FORTUNE 

recovered,  with  no  indication  of  there  be- 
ing an  end  to  the  supply ! 

The  question  of  transporting  and 
guarding  so  much  wealth  now  arose  as  a 
mighty  problem,  and  we  were  occupied 
for  a  considerable  period  in  its  settle- 
ment. It  was  at  length  decided  that  two 
of  us  should  remain  upon  the  mountain 
all  night,  and  the  fortune  of  lot  relegat- 
ed this  unpleasant  duty  to  Carquemort 
and  Chiffard.  Thatcher  and  I,  however, 
agreed  to  bring  up  to  them  warm  cloth- 
ing, sou'westers,  food,  and  drink,  but 
they  were  bound  not,  under  any  circum- 
stances, to  make  a  light  —  not  even  to 
smoke — so  great  had  become  our  fear 
of  detection. 

So,  upon  this  promise,  we  left  them, 
carrying  in  the  "paint-box"  two  of  the 
bricks.  (I  commend  to  any  one  who  de- 
sires exercise  the  carrying  down  a  rough 
mountain -side  of  fifty- six  pounds  dead 

weight.)      We  reached  the  shore  of  the 
198 


FORTUNES  FOR  FOUR 

inlet  towards  six  in  the  evening,  just  at 
dusk,  and  Glen  McLeod  came  out  for 
us  in  a  dory.  The  skipper  was  anxiously 
watching  for  our  approach  over  the  rail, 
and  we  at  once  invited  him  into  the 
cabin. 

His  amazement  at  sight  of  our  prize 
was  such  as  I  have  rarely  seen  at  any 
time,  and  when  we  told  him  of  the  pile  of 
similar  bars  that  lay  on  the  top  of  the 
mountain  he  sank  back  speechless  upon 
the  cabin  bench.  We  got  the  scales  from 
the  galley  and  weighed  the  two  bricks. 
As  I  have  written,  they  averaged  twenty- 
eight  pounds  each,  as  did  several  others 
which  we  subsequently  tested.  Thatcher 
took  pencil  and  paper  from  his  pocket 
and  figured. 

"  Gold,"  he  said,  "  is  worth  about  twenty 
dollars  a  Troy  ounce,  if  I  remember  cor- 
rectly. I  doubt,  however,  if  this  stuff  is 
pure.  American  gold  coin  is  over  .990 

fine.     This  can't  be  more  than  .800  fine, 
199 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

and,  at  a  rough  guess,  is  worth,  say, 
$16.00  to  the  Troy  ounce,  or" — and  he 
figured  away  rapidly — "about  $232  to 
the  pound  avoirdupois.  At  any  rate,  let 
us  figure  on  that  basis.  Now,  one  of 
these  bricks  weighs  twenty-eight  pounds: 
that  would  be  twenty- eight  times  two 
hundred  and  thirty-two  dollars,  say  $6496. 
This  brick,  gentlemen,  is  worth  $6496 !" 

A  dead  silence  followed  that  statement, 
and  we  each  in  turn  examined  Thatcher's 
figures,  that  we  might  be  convinced. 

"  Holy  Moses !"  said  McLeod,  as  he 
gazed  from  one  to  the  other  of  us,  and 
his  was  the  only  open  comment. 

We  supped  hastily,  and  as  we  ate  we 
decided  not  to  leave  the  schooner  with 
$  1 3,000  of  our  gold  unguarded.  McLeod, 
knowing  we  were  to  return  to  our  fellow- 

O 

millionaires,  had  asked  to  be  taken  up  to 
La  Grande  Vigie  that  he  might  see  the 
treasure  of  his  own  eyes,  and  so  Thatcher 
and  he  set  off  to  carry  comfort  to  our 


FORTUNES  FOR  FOUR 

Frenchmen,  while  I  remained  in  the  cabin 
with  the  treasure. 

The  next  morning,  early,  I  climbed  the 
hill  alone,  leaving  Thatcher  to  watch 
aboard  the  Merry  Madge,  and  the  day 
was  spent  in  carrying  down  the  gold  bars, 
four  at  a  time,  in  sacks.  The  process  was 
necessarily  slow  and  fatiguing,  but  we  all 
got  long  rests  between  journeys  by  taking 
turns  in  guarding  the  schooner  and  the 
cachette.  This  method  kept  two  of  us 
continually  idle,  which,  in  a  sense,  was  a 
disadvantage.  The  most  unpleasant  duty 
of  the  whole  process  of  transferrence  was 
the  night-watch  on  the  hill,  where  the 
temperature  towards  dawn  frequently  fell 
to  freezing,  and  we  could  not  even  allow 
ourselves  the  solace  of  a  pipe.  Rain,  too, 
for  three  days  made  the  night  misery  al- 
most unbearable  ;  but  nearly  any  kind  of 
suffering  becomes  supportable  when  one 
is  pulling  wealth  out  of  a  hole  at  the  rate 
of  about  $25,000  to  the  minute ;  and  so  it 

201 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

was  that  we  plugged  away  steadily  and 
cheerfully  for  ten  days  until  there  was 
not  a  bar  left  in  the  famous  cachette. 
When  we  were  convinced  of  this  we  took 
account  upon  our  check-list  and  found 
that  we  had  stowed  away  in  the  cabin  of 
the  Merry  Madge  no  less  than  five  hun- 
dred and  seventy-seven  bars  of  gold  !  If 
this  should  eventually  prove  to  be  worth 
sixteen  dollars  an  ounce,  as  Thatcher  had 
calculated,  we  were  now  the  possessors 
of  $3,747,092  !  Three  million  seven  hun- 
dred and  forty-seven  thousand  and  ninety- 
two  dollars !  Think  of  it ! — $936,773  for 
each  one  of  us  nineteenth-century  ad- 
venturers ! 

But  here  is  no  place  to  drag  into  ecsta- 
sies over  our  riches;  and  my  tale  is  al- 
ready stretching  far  beyond  the  limit  I 
had  set  at  the  beginning.  Brevity  seems 
to  be  a  virtue  that  this  story  has  lacked 
thus  far,  but  I  trust  the  truth  of  the  state- 
ments will  atone  for  the  verbiage.  I  find 


202 


FORTUNES  FOR  FOUR 

that  when  writing  of  things  one  has  done 
and  seen,  it  is  a  task  to  thresh  detail. 

In  all  this  time  of  gold-digging  Carque- 
mort  had  been  the  one  to  seem  not  wholly 
satisfied  with  our  fortune.  His  constant 
talk  was  of  more,  more,  more  !  He  would 
exclaim,  as  he  mouthed  the  figures  of  our 
calculations,  how  fortunate  the  man  would 
be  who  could  own  all  we  had  found ;  and 
at  times  he  broke  into  curses  upon  Chif- 
fard,  grudging  the  cook  his  share — poor 
Chiffard,  who  had  worked  hard  from  the 
start,  and  who,  after  all,  had  been  the 
means  of  bringing  Carquemort  to  us  and 
of  thus  making  it  possible  for  him  to  se- 
cure the  solution  of  the  mystery  of  his 
half-burned  chart. 

Thus  it  was  that  when  the  rest  of  us 
were  satisfied  and  convinced  that  no 
more  treasure  lay  within  the  cachette, 
Carquemort  still  brooded  over  the  possibil- 
ity of  finding  more  if  we  should  dig  deep- 
er, and,  to  be  just  towards  him,  his  conten- 
203 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

tion  was  certainly  more  or  less  warranted 
by  the  wording  of  the  chart  which  said 
"pieces  et  lingots"  we  having  supplied  the 
last  word,  and  correctly  as  the  event  had 
proved.  For  we  had  dug  out  of  the 
cachette  over  three  million  dollars  in  in- 
gots, but  no  coin.  Neither  Thatcher  nor 
I  believed  there  could  be  any  coin  there, 
as  a  very  thorough  search  of  the  pit  had 
been  made  by  each  one  of  us  after  the 
withdrawal  of  the  last  ingot,  and  we  felt 
disinclined  to  waste  time  in  digging  about 
any  more,  being  anxious  to  escape  from 
the  little  cove  of  Savoyard  with  the  booty 
we  had  before  an  evil  chance  should  be- 
tray our  enterprise  to  the  government  of 
the  island,  and  so  compel  us  to  surrender 
a  large  portion,  if  not  all,  of  our  treas- 
ure. McLeod,  too,  was  apprehensive 
about  further  delay,  for  gossip  flies  swiftly 
in  small  places,  and  there  were  many 
tongues  that  could  wag  to  ill  purpose 

concerning  the  "  cod  "  in  the  hold  of  the 
204 


FORTUNES  FOR  FOUR 

Merry  Madge.  Furthermore,  we  had 
promised  the  good  skipper  one  bar  out  of 
our  great  plenty  as  his  share  in  the  success 
of  the  venture,  and  so  the  canny  Scot,  with 
his  mental  eye  fixed  upon  $6496,  was 
doubly  eager  to  see  Galantry  drop  below 
the  horizon  in  the  wake  of  the  Merry 
Madge. 

Carquemort  was  so  persistent,  however, 
that  we  agreed  to  devote  one  full  day  ad- 
ditional to  La  Grande  Vigie  to  satisfy 
him  that  there  was  no  more  gold  to  be 
had ;  and  upon  this  concession  he  agreed 
to  offer  no  further  objection  to  an  early 
departure  thereafter.  This  understand- 
ing was  reached  on  the  evening  of  Tues- 
day, August  loth,  that  being  the  date 
upon  which  we  brought  down  the  last 
bars  from  the  summit.  Our  plan  as  pro- 
jected then  was  to  slip  quietly  out  of 
the  cove  at  dark  the  following  evening, 
August  1 1  th,  with,  doubtless,  the  richest 
cargo  that  ever  left  St.  Pierre. 
205 


CHAPTER   XIX 
THE     LAST      LOAD 

THUS,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  I  had 
thought  we  had  all  seen  the  last  of  La 
Grande  Vigie,  three  of  us  found  ourselves 
upon  the  summit  again,  hidden  in  fog,  the 
next  morninar — Thatcher  remaining  on 

o  o 

guard  aboard  ship.  The  tools  lay  in  the 
bottom  of  the  cachette  undisturbed,  as  we 
had  left  them  the  day  before,  and  after 
they  had  been  removed  Carquemort  an- 
nounced that  he  intended  to  enter  the 
chamber  bodily.  This  we  had  none  of  us 
undertaken  previously,  having  recovered 
the  treasure  by  merely  diving  into  the 
hole,  while  those  without  clung  to  the 
worker's  feet.  Yet,  now  that  all  the  gold 

had  been  taken  out,  it  was  barely  possible 
206 


THE   LAST  LOAD 

that  the  cachette  would  accommodate  a 
man,  but  I  could  not  see  that  space 
enough  would  be  left  to  enable  him,  once 
inside,  to  use  his  arms  for  \vork  of  any 
kind,  especially  Carquemort,  awkward, 
hulking  seaman  that  he  was.  But  he  slid 
in  nevertheless,  feet  first,  and  Chiffard 
muttered  to  me  under  his  breath  that  he 
would  like  nothing  better  than  to  roll  a 
bowlder  up  against  the  opening  of  the 
cackette  and  leave  the  ruffian  to  his  fate. 
That  we  did  not  do  this  is  only  one  more 
proof  to  my  mind  that  morality,  after  all, 
is  but  a  mere  engine  of  Providence,  which 
makes  me  reflect  further  that  a  century 
and  a  half  ago,  when  there  was  precious 
little  morality,  the  plans  of  Providence 
must  have  been  fearfully  interfered  with ; 
all  of  which  rather  obtuse  and  complicated 
philosophy  will  be  the  better  understood 
at  the  close  of  this  tale. 

There  was  better  accommodation   in- 
side of  that  cachette  than  I  had  supposed, 
207 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

for  Carquemort  could  be  heard  grunting 
and  scuffling  about  within  to  a  staccato 
accompaniment  of  falling  pebbles,  while 
Chiffard  and  I  sat  outside  in  the  fog  and 
smoked.  He  was  digging  with  his  knife 
at  the  bottom  of  the  pit,  and  he  kept  at 
this  persistently  for  almost  two  hours,  in 
spite  of  our  offers  to  take  his  place  for  a 
time  and  our  taunts  that  he  was  wasting 
his  energy  in  an  empty  black  hole. 

At  the  end  of  that  period,  however,  the 
tables  were  entirely  turned,  and  the  laugh 
rested  wholly  with  Carquemort;  and,  to 
say  truth,  I  believe  he  was  the  most  sur- 
prised of  the  three.  To  put  it  briefly, 
when  he  had  dug  some  six  or  ei^ht 

o  o 

inches  down  into  the  hard  clay  which  had 
compacted  at  the  bottom  of  the  cachette, 
his  knife-point  struck  sparks,  and  a  little 
more  scraping  proved  that  in  the  bottom 
of  the  pit  lay  a  large  iron-clamped  chest. 
Of  course  we  each  took  turns  of  inspec- 
tion at  once,  and  the  blackguarding  we 
208 


THE  LAST  LOAD 

got  from  Carquemort  meanwhile  was  such 
as  would  have  ranked  the  foulest-worded 
of  Captain  Kidd's  crew  as  a  drawing-room 
conversationalist. 

I,  being  the  smallest  of  stature,  was 
next  allowed  to  slide  into  the  pit,  and  to 
my  surprise  I  found  that  I  could  lean 
over  and  cut  away  the  clay  in  reasonable 
comfort.  The  refuse  was  passed  up  to 
the  surface  in  our  caps  and  thrown  out  ; 
and  when  it  came  Chiffard's  turn  to  labor, 
fully  one-third  of  the  lid  of  the  strong-box 
had  been  cleared  to  view.  An  hour  or 
so  after  that  the  top  of  the  chest  was  free, 
yet  the  chest  itself  was  still  so  firmly  em- 
bedded as  to  be  immovable.  The  work 
progressed  slowly,  both  because  of  the 
difficulty  of  attack  and  because  we  could 
use  jack-knives  only  ;  but  towards  mid- 
afternoon  we  had  hacked  away  enough 
sediment  from  one  side  of  the  chest  to 
clear  the  lock.  This  Carquemort  smash- 
ed with  the  crow-bar  after  a  good  fifteen 

o  209 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

minutes  of  volcanic  profanity,  and  the 
snapping  of  the  bolts  was  soon  followed 
by  an  eruption  of  gold  and  silver  coins 
that  he  tossed  to  us  from  within,  clamber- 
ing out  immediately  himself  with  his  two 
fists  full  of  doubloons.  I  say  doubloons, 
and  I  have  no  doubt  that  such  they  were, 
for  they  were  gold  pieces,  big  and  heavy ; 
and  although  many  were  badly  rubbed, 
there  were  enough  stamped  with  the  pro- 
files of  kings  and  bearing  pious  legends 
to  identify  the  famous  gold  piece  of  pirate 
story-books.  There  were  silver  coins,  too, 
and  larger  and  smaller  gold  pieces,  and  a 
few  coppers  —  the  latter  all  French,  as 
was  also  much  of  the  gold  and  silver.  I 
regretted  that  as  a  boy  I  had  never  col- 
lected coins,  that  I  might  have  known 
these  pieces  by  name  and  nation ;  but  one 
thing  I  was  sure  of,  and  that  was  their 
genuineness  and  their  great  value  and 
unquestioned  age,  for  no  date  did  we  find 
greater  than  1740,  and  only  a  few  of 


THE  LAST  LOAD 

these,  all  fresh  coins.  We  were  more  af- 
fected by  this  find  than  we  had  been  by 
the  bullion,  for  the  money  appealed  more 
directly  to  our  sense  of  sight  and  appre- 
ciation than  did  the  tawny  bricks.  Chif- 
fard  and  Carquemort  again  and  again 
held  the  coins  high  in  air  and  let  them 
sift  through  their  fingers  and  fall  into  a 
jingling  pile  upon  the  ground  below,  and  I 
found  myself  compelled  to  use  hard  words 
and  some  physical  force  to  keep  Carque- 
mort from  stuffing  his  pockets.  Finally 
I  ordered  him  away,  on  the  pretext  that 
he  go  to  the  schooner  and  fetch  rope 
and  a  pair  of  oars,  or  boat-hooks,  and 
some  flour-bags  in  which  to  carry  off  our 
treasure. 

While  he  was  gone  I  entered  the  ca- 
chette  and  passed  out  capful  after  capful 
of  gold  and  silver  pieces  to  Chiffard  until 
my  back  and  arms  fairly  ached,  and  the 
cook  piled  all  these  in  a  great  stack  on 
his  coat  that  had  been  spread  out  near  by. 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

The  box  I  was  delving  from  was  about 
half  the  size  of  an  ordinary  modern 
steamer  trunk.  This  may  give  some 
idea  of  what  its  capacity  was,  and  this 
capacity  was  taxed  to  the  utmost,  for 
when  I  first  lifted  the  lid  the  coins  were 
brim  even.  The  pile  outside,  as  I  saw  it 
when  I  emerged,  was  fully  two  feet  high 
and  almost  three  feet  in  diameter  at  the 
base.  What  the  actual  value  of  all  this 
was  in  money  of  to-day  I  cannot  state,  for 
it  was  never  satisfactorily  computed ;  but 
Thatcher,  who  proved  himself  the  mathe- 
matician and  financier  of  the  expedition, 
divided  the  silver  coins  from  the  gold  the 
night  we  sailed  from  St.  Pierre  and  made 
a  rou°:h  estimate  of  the  contents  of  the 

O 

chest,  which  he  reckoned  at  nearly  $200,- 
ooo.  This  brought  our  grand  total  up 
to  nearly  four  millions  of  dollars. 

To  return  to  our  day's  work,  however. 
Carquemort  got  back  from  the  schooner 
at  just  about  sunset.  The  coins  had  all 


212 


WE  CARRIED   OUR   COINS   DOWN   IN   BASKETS 


THE  LAST  LOAD 

been  recovered  and  Chiffard  was  in  the 
cachette  trying  to  dislodge  the  chest,  for 
we  thought  we  might  find  about  it  some 
clew  to  the  source  of  all  this  wealth,  and, 
incidentally,  to  the  designer  of  our  luckful 
chart.  Carquemort  brought  with  him  a 
pair  of  oars  and  some  rope  but  no  bags, 
for  of  these  he  had  been  able  to  get  none. 
Thus  it  became  imperative  that  we  dig 
out  the  chest,  for  we  had  nothing  else  in 
which  to  carry  away  the  money.  We  did 
finally  dislodge  it,  and  after  much  trouble 
we  pulled  it  through  the  aperture  to  the 
surface.  It  was  too  dark  by  that  time  to 
make  any  examination,  and  beyond  noting 
that  it  was  an  unusually  strong  oaken  box, 
bound  and  clamped  with  iron,  I  paid  little 
attention  to  it.  The  coins  were  poured 
back  into  it  and  shaken  down  so  that  we 
could  close  the  lid,  and  the  coffer  was 
then  stoutly  bound  with  rope,  with  nooses 
arranged  so  that  it  could  be  slung  on  the 

oars  and  carried  by  two  of  us.     But  when 
213 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

we  came  to  attempt  this  we  found  that 
by  our  united  efforts  we  were  only  just 
capable  of  raising  the  great  weight  a  few 
inches  from  the  ground. 

The  result  was  another  night's  watch 
on  La  Grande  Vigie,  the  lot  falling  this 
time  to  Carquemort  and  me,  and  the 
next  day,  in  four  tiresome  trips,  we  carried 
our  coins  down  to  the  cove  in  cod-baskets. 
Each  load  was  dumped  into  the  chest, 
that  had  gone  aboard  carrying  the  first 
instalment,  and  was  stowed  for  greater 
safety  in  the  bunk  of  the  little  cabin 
where  one  of  us  had  expected  to  sleep 
during  the  return  trip.  Thus,  finally,  our 
entire  hoard  was  put  into  the  Merry 
Madge,  and  nothing  further  held  us  to  St. 
Pierre.  The  capstan  began  clinking  at 
eight  o'clock  that  night,  and  the  wind 
holding  fair  and  southeasterly,  the  little 
schooner  slipped  quietly  out  of  the  bay  in 
the  darkness  just  half  an  hour  later. 


CHAPTER   XX 
HOMEWARD    BOUND 

UP  to  the  present  I  have  said  little 
about  Semsen,  the  fourth  hand  aboard 
the  Merry  Madge,  whom  we  shipped  at 
the  last  hour  out  of  a  North  Sydney  grog- 
shop. It  has  seemed  best  to  reserve  his 
indictment  until  he  moved  more  promi- 
nently into  our  story,  and  that  period  we 
have  now  reached. 

He  was  a  Finn,  as  I  think  I  have  told 
— a  lank,  greasy  beast,  fit  to  sustain  the 
evil  repute  that  hangs  at  the  heels  of  all 
those  of  his  race  who  follow  the  sea.  He 
worked  well  enough,  it  seems,  on  the  trip 
over  from  Cape  Breton,  being  in  good  pay 
and  not  yet  spoiled  by  association  with 
Carquemort,  although  Heaven  knows  he 
215 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

must  have  been  bad  enough  from  the 
start.  Rum  and  our  black-hearted  part- 
ner did  the  rest. 

On  two  or  three  occasions  during  the 
time  the  schooner  lay  at  anchor  in  the 
cove,  McLeod  had  let  drop  some  remark 
which  plainly  showed  us  the  fellow  was 
losing  favor  with  the  skipper.  But  even 
this  caused  us  no  particular  uneasiness. 
Semsen  had  had  ten  days  of  almost  per- 
fect idleness  while  we  were  transferring 
the  treasure,  for  we  never  called  upon 
him  to  assist  us,  and  so  far  as  McLeod's 
enterprise  was  concerned,  all  Semsen  had 
to  do  was  to  row  the  dory  back  and  forth 
a  couple  of  times  in  the  evening  when 
the  kegs  and  cases  came  out  from  the 
town  to  Savoyard  in  little  wagons  drawn 
by  dogs.  It  was  impossible  to  keep  the 
man  in  ignorance  of  the  nature  of  the 
schooner's  main  cargo,  and  I  doubt  if 
concealment  was  ever  attempted  in  that 

direction,  but  he  was  given  pretty  plainly 
216 


HOMEWARD   BOUND 

to  understand  that  he  must  keep  his 
mouth  shut,  and  he  was  not  allowed  any 
shore  leave.  As  to  the  treasure,  we  tried' 
at  first  to  keep  the  true  nature  of  the 
affair  from  him,  but  when  we  continued 
coming  down  the  hill  day  after  day  with 
our  loads  of  gold  bars  and  clambering 
clumsily  over  the  rail  with  them,  it  seems 
almost  impossible  that  an  inkling  of  the 
truth  should  have  failed  to  sift  through  his 
idle  brain.  As  a  mutter  of  fact,  Carque- 
mort  probably  told  him  all  about  the 
whole  business  soon  after  the  cachette  was 
discovered,  for  we  have  agreed  since,  in 
discussing  our  adventures,  that  Semsen, 
for  a  man  ignorant,  showed  a  remarkable 
lack  of  interest  in  the  peculiar  proceed- 
ings he  was  living  in  the  very  midst  of. 
He  and  Carquemort  had  been  on  friendly 
terms  jirom  the  start,  and  every  evening 
the  latter  \vas  not  on  duty  at  the  summit 
of  La  Grande  Vigie  the  two  used  to  sit  in 
the  bow  smoking  their  pipes  and  talking 
217 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

in  undertones,  and  their  conversation  al- 
ways ceased  when  Glen  McLeod,  or 
Chiffard,  or  any  other  of  us  approached. 
This  did  not  arouse  our  suspicions  at  the 
time,  although,  when  you  consider  the 
temptation  to  crime  latent  in  the  millions 
we  had  housed  in  the  cabin,  I  suppose  it 
should  have.  Doubtless,  during  those 
long  conversations,  Semsen  and  Carque- 
mort  concocted  the  plan  which  they  tried 
to  put  into  effect  some  days  later,  and 
which  might  very  well  have  succeeded  in 
spite  of  their  being  only  two  against  five 
if  fortune  had  not  favored  us  as  it  did. 
What  the  plan  actually  was  I  am  also 
unable  to  say  with  any  degree  of  exacti- 
tude, for  its  development  came  so  sud- 
denly, when  it  did  come,  that  we  were  all 
taken  by  surprise.  I  feel  sure,  however, 
that  some  part  of  their  scheme  went 
wrong,  or  possibly  some  misunderstand- 
ing between  the  two  caused  a  premature 
execution,  for  it  would  hardly  seem  pos- 


HOMEWARD   BOUND 

sible  that  they  should  attempt  to  attack 
five  men  in  the  manner  they  did.  And 
now,  having  made  this  brief  exposition  of 
the  temper  of  our  treacherous  fellows,  let 
us  return  to  the  little  schooner  on  the 
night  we  put  out  of  1'Anse  de  Savoyard. 

The  cove  fell  quickly  out  of  sight  in 
the  darkness,  and  as  we  rounded  the 
point  we  picked  up  the  lights  of  St.  Pierre 
off  the  port  bow,  the  night  being  clear. 
The  wind  favored  us,  and  before  long  the 
revolving  light  on  Galantry  Head  had 
dropped  well  astern.  We  went  down 
into  the  dingy  cabin — McLeod,  Thatcher, 
and  I.  No  definite  plans  had  been  made 
as  to  our  port  of  destination  otherwise 
than  that  we  should  head  in  the  general 
direction  of  North  Sydney  and  decide  as 
soon  as  possible  exactly  where  and  how 
we  should  try  to  land  our  gold.  We  had 
been  too  busy  up  to  the  present  to  think 
about  anything  further  than  getting  safely 
away  from  the  French. 
219 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

On  this  first  night  out,  however,  we 
postponed  any  discussion  of  our  plans  in 
order  to  count  the  coins  that  lay  in  the 
bunk  of  the  extra  cabin.  It  was  a  glo- 
rious entertainment,  in  which  McLeod 
took  part,  and  the  result  of  Thatcher's 
rough  calculations  was,  as  I  have  said, 
that  the  value  of  the  coins  approximated 
$200,000. 

The  most  important  discovery  came 
later  in  the  evening,  after  the  mathemat- 
ics had  been  laid  aside,  when  we  set  to 
making  the  first  close  examination  of  the 
chest.  It  was  an  unusually  well-made 
box.  The  wood  was  doubtless  oak  or 
ash,  but  we  could  not  be  certain  on  ac- 
count of  its  age.  The  iron  clasps  and 
hinges  were  wrought  in  curious  designs, 
and  the  padlock,  on  the  reverse,  was  dec- 
orated with  a  crown  in  cameo  with  these 
letters  engraved  in  script  beneath  it, 
"N.  D.  de  la  DT  We  thought  that  this 
would  remain  our  only  clew  to  the  iden- 


HOMEWARD  BOUND 

tity  of  the  original  owner  of  the  strong- 
box, but  McLeod,  who  possessed  sharp 
eyes,  claimed  that  he  could  discover  the 
trace  of  a  name  on  the  lid,  and  we,  too, 
finally  managed  to  recognize  signs  of  let- 
tering. I  took  a  clothes-brush  and  pol- 
ished the  top  of  the  chest  off  to  the  best 
of  my  strength,  scattering  the  floor  with 
dirt  and  rust  and  bits  of  wood  that  fell 
before  the  vigor  of  my  assault.  Then  we 
wiped  the  surface  with  an  oiled  rag,  and 
thus  brought  out  more  clearly  the  words 
that  had  almost  faded  away.  McLeod's 
eyesight  was  again  brought  into  requisi- 
tion and  he  spelled  out  " a  Deliv  anc" 
Beyond  that  we  could  rescue  nothing 
from  the  darkness. 

To  us  who  had  labored  so  long  and  as- 
siduously over  the  burned  chart  the  pres- 
ent puzzle  proved  a  simple  one,  and  we 
made  the  faded  letters  at  once  into  "  la 
Delivrance"  and  coupling  this  with  the 
letters  on  the  padlock  we  concluded  that 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

the  name  of  the  ship  to  which  this  chest 
had  originally  belonged  was  "  N.  D.  de 
la  Delivrance ;"  but  what  "  N.  D."  might 
stand  for  we  did  not  then  determine,  and, 
to  be  frank,  just  at  that  time  we  did  not 
much  care.  Our  minds  were  on  other 
matters,  and  our  hearts  set  rather  into  the 
future  than  upon  the  past.  So  we  stowed 
the  coins  back  again  carefully  into  the 
box,  stacking  them  according  to  size,  and 
filling  the  chinks  with  cotton-waste ;  and 
then  we  nailed  down  the  lid  of  the  cof- 
fer, and  after  much  effort  moved  it  back 
again  into  the  port  cabin,  where  it  formed 
a  sort  of  step  to  the  bunk. 

Just  as  we  were  about  to  turn  in  for 
the  night  Thatcher  startled  us  by  leaping 
to  his  feet,  tearing  open  the  cabin-door 
and  striding  up  the  companion-way  three 
steps  at  a  time.  We  heard  him  walk 
rapidly  around  the  deck  and  speak  a  few 
words  to  Glen,  whose  turn  it  was  at  the 
wheel,  and  then  he  returned. 

222 


HOMEWARD  BOUND 

"  I  guess  I've  got  'em  again,"  was  all  he 
said. 

"  Why  ?  What  ailed  you  ?"  asked  Mo 
Leod. 

"  Why,  I  looked  up  there  and  I  could 
swear  I  saw  a  face  peering  down  through 
the  skylight.  That  man  Semsen,  I 
thought.  I  rushed  up  to  see  who  it  was, 
but  there  was  no  one  on  deck  but  Glen  at 
the  wheel." 

"  You  need  rest,"  I  said ;  and  for  the 
time  we  thought  no  more  of  the  incident. 


CHAPTER  XXI 
AN  UNEXPECTED  OUTBREAK 

THE  next  morning  we  slept  late — that 
is,  late  for  seafarers — for  when  I  awoke 
it  was  half-past  seven.  McLeod  had  gone 
on  deck  long  before.  I  aroused  Thatcher, 
and  as  we  dressed  we  could  tell  from  the 
lazy  motion  of  the  schooner  and  by  the 
groaning  and  creaking  of  the  booms  that 
the  Merry  Madge  was  becalmed.  Above 
we  found  the  captain  smoking  his  pipe 
and  saying  things  that  would  not  look 
well  in  print,  and  he  pointed  northward 
to  a  heavy  bank  of  dull  gray  clouds  flush 
with  the  ocean. 

"  Fog  ?"  said  I,  for  the  atmosphere  even 
then  was  thick  and  chilly. 

"Yes,"  growled  McLeod,  "and    in   an 
224 


AN  UNEXPECTED  OUTBREAK 

hour  we'll  be  packed  in  it  like  in  cot- 
ton." 

We  took  our  breakfast  in  the  galley 
with  Chiffard,  who  was  whistling  jovially 
over  his  pots  and  kettles  and  forever  jok- 
ing about  the  condescension  it  was  on  his 
part — a  millionaire — to  play  sea-cook. 
But  he  played  his  part  well,  and  McLeod 
used  to  mourn  the  coming  loss  of  so  good 
a  hand  at  making  coffee. 

By  the  time  we  had  finished  our  scant 
meal  the  fog  was  upon  us,  and  in  less 
than  an  hour  every  rope  of  the  rigging 
was  dripping  dismally.  Thatcher  and 
I  had  smoked  our  pipes  and  were  back 
again  in  the  cabin  lounging  on  the  spare 
bunks,  with  our  feet  cocked  up  on  the 
piles  of  bullion,  discussing  the  port  we 
had  better  make  for  as  soon  as  the  wind 
favored,  when  we  heard  heavy  foot-falls 
on  the  steps,  and  Carquemort  stalked 
into  the  cabin. 

"  Hallo !"  exclaimed  Thatcher.    "  How 
p  225 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

did  you  get  down  here  ?  Where's  the 
captain  ?" 

"  The  devil  take  the  captain !"  retorted 
Carquemort,  sullenly.  "  I  guess  I'm  as 
good  as  he.  Do  you  know  I'm  getting 
tired  of  this  dog  business?  I've  got  just 
as  much  right  in  this  cabin  as  you  have ! 
That  money  's  as  much  mine  as  yours. 
Where's  the  chest  ?" 

u  See  here,  Carquemort,"  said  Thatcher, 
quite  calmly,  rising,  "  sit  down  there." 

"  I  did  not  come  here  to  sit  down," 
continued  Carquemort.  "  I  want  some  of 
that  money." 

"  Well,  you  can't  have  any  of  that  mon- 
ey," returned  Thatcher,  sharply.  "  And 
if  you  don't  want  to  listen  to  reason,  you 
can  get  right  out  of  here !" 

Carquemort  was  looking  about  the 
cabin  in  search  of  the  chest ;  but  that 
was  safely  locked  in  the  port  state-room, 
and  I  carried  the  key  to  the  door  in  my 

pocket. 

226 


AN  UNEXPECTED  OUTBREAK 

"  What  do  you  want  with  money  to- 
day ?"  I  asked,  pacifically. 

"  I  want  to  have  it  in  my  pocket.  It's 
mine,  and  I've  a  right  to  it.  I  want  to 
divide  the  coin  in  the  chest  now.  We 
may  hang  here  in  this  fog  for  a  week." 

"  It  was  understood  in  the  be^innin^ 

o  o 

that  this  treasure  was  not  to  be  divided 
until  we  reached  land,"  I  said.  "  And, 
what's  more,  it  won't  be,  either ;  you  may 
depend  upon  that !  If  you  have  any- 
thing reasonable  to  say,  very  well ;  but — " 

Here  McLeod  came  down  from  the 
deck,  and  he  appeared  somewhat  sur- 
prised at  finding  the  Frenchman  in  the 
cabin. 

"  That  will  do,  Carquemort,"  said 
Thatcher,  as  if  dismissing  the  man,  and 
he  sat  down  again  and  went  at  filling  his 
pipe.  Carquemort  scowled  and  climbed 
slowly  up  the  companion-way. 

"  That  fellow's  getting  ugly,"  I  said. 

"  Ugly?"  repeated  McLeod. 
227 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

"  Yes.  I  guess  he  has  not  got  enough 
work  to  do,  captain,"  put  in  Thatcher. 
"  Can't  you  set  him  at  something  that 
will  keep  him  busy  until  we  get  under 
way  again  ?" 

"  I  guess  I  can  find  something  to  oc- 
cupy the  beast,"  he  said ;  and  after  put- 
ting on  his  sou'wester,  which  he  had  come 
down  for,  he  left  us  again.  We  heard 
him  bawling  some  orders  above,  and 
there  was  an  interchange  of  oaths  that 
fairly  shook  the  panes  of  the  skylight. 

And  now  I  shall  have  to  tell  this  part 
of  the  story  as  the  events  happened,  and 
as  they  were  told  to  me  afterwards,  not 
as  I  saw  them ;  for,  being  below,  Thatch- 
er and  I  were  not  witnesses  to  what  oc- 
curred in  the  beginning  of  the  exciting 
period  that  followed  Carquemort's  visit  to 
the  cabin.  It  seems  that  McLeod  set  the 
Frenchman  and  Semsen  at  some  sort 
of  dirty  labor  aloft  on  the  foremast — 

scraping  the  top -mast,  I  believe,  though 
228 


AN  UNEXPECTED  OUTBREAK 

I'm  pretty  weak  on  nauticalities  —  and 
Glen  was  ordered  to  take  the  wheel 
and  watch  the  sails  in  case  a  breeze 
sprang  up.  Occasionally,  too,  he  blew  a 
mournful  blast  upon  a  fog-horn — a  per- 
fectly useless  proceeding,  for  we  were 
apparently  alone  upon  the  surface  of  that 
foggy  sea.  McLeod  sat  by,  smoking  in 
silence,  and  Chiffard  was  busy  in  the 
galley.  And  so  things  went  for  half  an 
hour  or  more,  with  the  drip,  drip,  drip  of 
the  fog  upon  the  deck  and  the  hoarse 
tooting  of  Glen's  horn  as  the  only  dis- 
turbance of  that  ominous  peace. 

Presently  the  captain  arose  and  leaned 
far  over  the  rail,  and  peered  intently  into 
the  mist  for  some  moments. 

"See  here,  Glen,"  he  said,  "d'ye  catch 
sight  of  anything  beyond?" 

Glen  strained  his  eyes  for  some  mo- 
ments, and  replied  that  he   thought  he 
could  make  out  some  sort  of  a  dark  ob- 
ject floating  off  the  port  quarter. 
229 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

"  Yes,"  said  the  skipper,  "  there's  some- 
thin'  there,  sure,  and  it's  floatin'  this  way. 
Mayhap  it  might  be  a  dory  or  the  like ;" 
and,  sure  enough,  that  is  what  it  proved 
to  be.  It  came  slowly  along  on  the  tide, 
its  outlines  growing  more  and  more  dis- 
tinct, and  in  a  few  moments  it  was  bob- 
bing, bottom  up,  almost  within  reach  of 
the  stern  of  the  Merry  Madge,  but  still 
well  beyond  the  grasp  of  a  boat-hook. 

"  There  goes  twenty- five  dollars,  my 
boy,"  remarked  McLeod. 

"What  do  you  let  it  go  for?"  asked 
Glen.  "  Is  she  sound  ?" 

"  Seems  to  be,"  and  then,  struck  with 
a  sudden  idea :  "  Lend  a  hand  there,  lad, 
and  we'll  have  that.  Launch  a  dory,  now, 
lively;"  and  almost  in  less  time  than  it 
takes  to  tell,  the  father  and  son  had  got- 
ten our  smaller  dory  over  the  rail — we 
only  carried  two,  nested  over  the  main 
hatch — and  had  shoved  off  in  pursuit  of 

the  derelict.     Glen  sculled  with  a  single 
230 


AN   UNEXPECTED  OUTBREAK 

oar,  while  the  older  McLeod  kneeled  in 
the  bow,  leaning  on  the  boat-hook  as 
though  it  were  a  huge  harpoon.  Fog  is  a 
traitor  to  judgment,  or  else  the  tide  took 
a  sudden  flow,  for  the  two  men  found  they 
had  quite  a  distance  to  go  before  they 
overhauled  the  upturned  dory. 

And  now  comes  the  devil-work  of  that 
incarnate  fiend,  Carquemort.  Scarcely 
had  McLeod  and  Glen  put  off  from  the 
schooner  when  the  men  dropped  their 
work  aloft  and  tumbled  down  to  deck. 
Whether  they  had  their  plan  all  prepared 
and  were  only  waiting  for  some  such  un- 
expected occurrence  as  this  to  aid  them, 
I  cannot  say;  but  they  jumped  at  the  op- 
portunity which  had  so  suddenly  arisen 
to  rid  them  for  a  space  of  two  of  the  five 
men  against  whom  they  had  evidently 
laid  some  plot,  and  set  about  to  over- 
power the  rest  of  us.  Of  Chiffard  they 
took  little  heed,  apparently,  although  they 
lifted  the  remaining  dory  from  the  hatch 
231 


FOUR   FOR   A  FORTUNE 

and  laid  it  quietly  across  the  galley  door, 
so  that  the  cook  would  have  a  hard  time 
of  it  getting  out  when  he  once  became 
alarmed.  Then  they  hurried  to  the  com- 
panion-way, and  our  first  intimation  of 
trouble  brewing  was  shouted  down  to  us 
by  Carquemort,  who  called  upon  Thatch- 
er to  come  up  on  deck. 

"What's  the  row?"  returned  Thatcher, 
somewhat  surprised  at  the  summons. 

"No  row,"  answered  Carquemort;  "the 
captain's  just  put  off  in  a  dory.  Hurry 
up!" 

We  both  rose  to  our  feet  to  go  on  deck ; 
but,  as  good  fortune  would  have  it,  I,  hav- 
ing slipped  off  my  shoes  when  we  came 
below,  was  delayed  half  a  minute  in  put- 
ting them  on  again.  That  necessity,  an  in- 
significant thing  in  itself,  probably  saved 
the  lives  of  four  of  us.  Thatcher  went 
on  ahead,  and  in  my  inclined  position  I 
could  follow  him  with  my  eyes  until  he 

stepped  on  the  deck.     No  sooner  had  he 
232 


AN  UNEXPECTED  OUTBREAK 

done  so  than  an  arm  shot  out  from  be- 
hind him,  and  he  was  struck  in  the  back 
of  the  head  with  a  belaying-pin.  Not  a 
sound  did  he  make,  but  pitched  forward 
heavily  and  fell  violently  against  the 
wheel,  where  he  lay  motionless.  For  a 
second  I  could  not  believe  the  testimony 
of  my  own  eyes ;  I  thought  he  must  have 
slipped  on  the  wet  deck  ;  but  yet  I  had 
seen  the  blow  struck,  and  the  sound  of  the 
heavy  fall  of  Thatcher's  body  was  fol- 
lowed by  absolute  silence.  If  he  had  tum- 
bled accidentally,  Carquemort  would  be 
assisting  him  to  his  feet.  But  there  was 
no  evidence  of  that.  All  this  flashed 
through  my  mind  in  much  less  time  than 
it  takes  to  write  it,  or  even  to  read  it,  and 
fearing  treachery,  I  went  at  once  to  my 
satchel  that  hung  over  my  bunk  and  took 
my  revolver. 

I  had  only  just  had  time  to  make  sure 
it  was  loaded  when  I  heard  foot-falls  on 
the  companion-way.     I  retired  quickly  to 
233 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

the  end  of  the  cabin  farthest  from  the 
steps  and  cocked  my  pistol.  I  thought  I 
should  have  to  deal  with  Carquemort,  but 
to  my  surprise  it  was  Semsen  who  faced 
me,  the  belaying-pin  still  in  his  hand. 

"  Don't  you  move  another  step !"  I 
shouted  to  him,  as  his  head  appeared  be- 
low the  door-piece.  I  was  leaning  with 
my  left  hand  upon  the  table  and  I  had 
the  drop  on  him  with  my  right.  The 
man  seemed  staggered  at  finding  himself 
facing  a  revolver,  for  he  hesitated  a  mo- 
ment and  raised  his  right  hand  as  if  to 
hurl  the  heavy  pin  at  my  head.  Just  then 
Carquemort  shouted : 

"  Hurry  up,  you  fool!  They're  putting 
about"  (meaning  the  McLeods  in  the 
dory,  I  suppose). 

"  If  you  move,  I'll  shoot,"  said  I ;  but 
Semsen  must  have  had  a  small  opinion 
of  my  marksmanship,  for  he  made  a  leap 
from  the  steps  towards  me,  and  as  he  did 
so  I  fired. 

234 


AN  UNEXPECTED  OUTBREAK 

He  fell  headlong  upon  the  cabin  floor. 
I  knew  he  could  not  be  fatally  hurt,  for  I 
had  aimed  low,  intending  (like  a  fool)  to 
hit  him  in  the  leg,  so  I  leaped  upon  his 
prostrate  form  and  pounded  him  upon 
the  head  as  fiercely  as  I  could  with  the 
butt  of  my  pistol.  This  had  the  desired 
effect,  for  he  lay  like  a  log.  The  while 
I  had  kept  a  sharp  eye  on  the  door,  but 
the  sound  of  my  shot  must  have  knocked 
some  of  the  temerity  out  of  Carquemort, 
who,  I  am  sure,  had  not  the  remotest  sus- 
picion that  we  carried  fire-arms. 

I  did  not  know,  of  course,  at  this  time 
that  McLeod  and  Glen  were  away  from 
the  schooner ;  so  I  wondered  what  could 
possibly  have  happened  to  them,  and  very 
naturally  conjectured  that  as  they  made 
no  move  to  my  assistance  they  must,  for 
some  reason,  be  powerless. 

All  this  made  me  hesitate  to  climb  the 
companion-way,  and  I  delayed  some  mo- 
ments in  coming  to  my  determination, 
235 


FOUR   FOR  A  FORTUNE 

which  finally  was  to  take  the  offensive  at 
once.  I  fortified  myself  with  a  second 
pistol  out  of  Thatcher's  bag,  and  with  both 
weapons  cocked  I  made  my  way  cautious- 
ly to  the  cabin  door  and  peered  carefully 
upward.  There  was  no  one  to  be  seen, 
and  not  a  sound  to  be  heard  above  the 
dripping  from  the  sails  and  shrouds.  I 
crept  slowly  up  the  slippery  steps,  fear- 
ing at  every  moment  to  be  attacked  with 
a  belaying-pin,  but  nothing  of  the  kind 
befell ;  and  when  at  last  I  stuck  my  head 
above  the  level  of  the  companion-rail  I 
saw  Carquemort  leaning  over  the  bul- 
warks amidships,  and  consequently  with 
his  back  to  me.  McLeod  and  Glen  had 
just  come  along-side  with  the  rescued 
dory,  but,  from  where  I  watched,  they 
were  invisible  to  me,  and  I  could  form 
no  idea  of  why  Carquemort  stood  in  that 
position. 

After  my  shot  in  the  cabin  he  had,  no 

doubt,  expected  to  hear  sounds  of  a  strug- 
236 


AN  UNEXPECTED  OUTBREAK 

gle,  or,  if  Semsen  were  hurt,  calls'  for 
assistance.  But  as  neither  followed  he 
must  have  concluded  that  both  of  us  were 
injured  as  a  result  of  our  collision,  and 
that  I,  at  least,  was  temporarily  out  of  the 
fight.  It  was  the  better  part  of  valor,  too, 
for  him  to  make  no  personal  investigation 
into  the  conditions  that  held  in  the 
cabin  ;  for  (as  he  had  signalled  to  Semsen) 
the  two  McLeods  had  put  about  and 
were  rapidly  nearing  the  schooner.  As 
matters  stood,  therefore,  he  was  left  sin- 
gle-handed to  meet  these  two ;  and,  con- 
sidering their  approach  a  graver  danger 
than  my  possible  advance  from  out  of  the 
cabin,  he  had  abandoned  his  post  at  the 
top  of  the  companion  -  way  and  lay  in 
wait  for  the  unsuspecting  Scotsmen.  Of 
course,  all  this,  let  me  repeat,  was  wholly 
without  my  knowledge  and  beyond  my 
comprehension,  and  consequently  I  did 
not  act  with  such  alacrity  as  I  might  had 
I  held  any  conception  of  the  lay  of  af- 
237 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

fairs.  My  courage,  too,  was  effectually 
sapped  by  the  sight  of  Thatcher  lying 
face  downward  upon  the  deck,  not  six 
feet  distant,  apparently  dead,  with  an 
ugly  gash  above  the  ear,  from  which  a 
little  stream  of  blood  spread  into  an  ugly 
pool  upon  the  planking. 

I  consider  that  the  protrusion  of  my 
head  above  the  companion-way  rail  and 
the  arrival  of  McLeod  and  Glen  along- 
side the  Merry  Madge  were  simultaneous. 
The  skipper,  being  in  the  bow  of  the 
dory,  and  holding  the  painter  in  one 
hand,  stood  up  and  started  to  clamber 
over  the  rail  amidships.  As  he  did  so, 
Carquemort  leaped  from  the  lounging 
position  he  held  and  caught  McLeod  full 
in  the  face  with  a  belaying-pin.  At  the 
same  instant  I  sprang  to  the  deck,  just 
in  time  to  see  the  captain  throw  up  his 
hands  and  fall  backward.  He  struck  the 
side  of  the  dory  with  the  small  of  his 

back  and  plunged  head  first  into  the  sea, 
238 


AN  UNEXPECTED  OUTBREAK 

upsetting  Glen  into  the  water  at  the  same 
time.  But  even  before  the  splash  of  the 
falling  men  and  Glen's  sharp  cry  had 
reached  my  ears,  I  had  fired  twice  at  Car- 
quemort — missing  with  both  cartridges. 
He  turned  quickly  upon  me,  and  seizing 
another  pin  from  the  main  rigging  near 
which  he  stood,  he  made  a  step  in  my 
direction.  I  fired  again,  and  this  time 
the  bullet  struck  him  under  the  right 
arm,  making  only  a  slight  flesh-wound  a 
few  inches  below  the  shoulder-blade. 

Chiffard  had  not  heard  the  report  of  my 
first  shot  at  Semsen  in  the  cabin,  but  the 
shouts  and  the  firing  which  followed  my 
arrival  on  deck  roused  him  in  his  galley, 
and  even  in  the  excitement  of  my  encoun- 
ter with  Carquemort  I  could  hear  the  cook 
cursing  and  struggling  with  the  heavy 
dory  that  had  been  placed  to  bar  his  pas- 
sage. 

"  Arm   yourself,  Chiffard  !"  I  shouted. 

"Arm  yourself !" — and  hardly  had  I  cried 
239 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

these  words  when  Carquemort,  with  a  sav- 
age oath,  flew  at  me,  dropping  the  heavy 
pin  he  held  and  drawing  from  his  belt 
an  ugly  knife  that  I  had  frequently  seen 
him  use  to  cut  tobacco.  I  did  not  wait 
for  the  onslaught,  but  turned  and  fled 
forward  along  the  opposite  side  of  the 
deck,  thus  placing  the  cabin  skylight  and 
the  main-mast  momentarily  between  me 
and  my  pursuer.  I  reached  the  galley 
just  as  Chiffard  burst  himself  free  and 
stepped  on  deck,  holding  in  his  hand  a 
long  meat-knife.  I  turned  then,  restored 
to  some  confidence  by  his  presence,  and 
faced  Carquemort,  who  was  now  within 
less  than  five  yards  of  us.  I  raised  both 
my  pistols  and  fired  with  the  two  at  one 
time,  and,  thank  God,  hit  the  mark,  for 
Carquemort  fell  prone  forward  with  one 
bullet  in  the  abdomen  and  another  in 
his  left  wrist.  These  details  of  injury 
we  did  not  make  sure  of  until  later,  but 

we  knew  at  once  from  the  way  he  lay 
240 


I   FIRED   BOTH   PISTOLS   AT  ONE  TIME 


AN  UNEXPECTED  OUTBREAK 

writhing  and  cursing  that  he  would  give 
us  no  more  trouble  for  the  moment. 

I  had  had  no  time  to  think  of  McLeod 
and  Glen  meanwhile,  but  as  soon  as  we 
had  made  sure  that  Carquemort  was  safe- 
ly hurt,  I  thrust  the  bewildered  Chiffard 
towards  the  starboard  rail,  saying  I  know 
not  what  as  I  did  so,  and  gazed  keenly 
over  the  board.  The  two  dories  had 
floated  some  distance  away,  and  close  in 
to  the  schooner  drifted  an  oil-skin  cap — 
but  no  si<m  of  either  McLeod  or  Glen. 

O 

Almost  before  I  could  make  any  com- 
ment, Chiffard  seized  me  by  the  shoulder 
and  pointed  aft,  and  there,  as  the  main- 
sail swung  heavily  to  port,  I  saw  Glen 
standing  in  the  stern  dripping  wet,  dress- 
ed only  in  shirt  and  trousers ;  and  as  my 
eyes  fell  upon  him  he  leaped  forward  with 
a  shout  and  seized  a  man  who  came  up 
from  the  cabin.  It  was  Semsen,  of  course, 
and  I  called  this  to  Chiffard  as  we  leaped 
over  ropes  and  tackle  to  Glen's  assistance. 

Q  241 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

The  experiences  I  had  passed  through 
within  the  last  half-hour  had  taken  pret- 
ty nearly  all  the  vigor  out  of  me,  so  that 
it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  Chiffard 
reached  Glen  in  about  the  time  it  took 
me  to  cover  half  the  distance.  He  got 
aft  none  too  soon,  however,  for  Semsen 
had  rushed  at  the  lad* with  a  knife,  and 
the  two  had  grappled  and  fallen  upon  the 
slimy  boards  at  the  first  shock,  the  mur- 
derous Finn  on  top.  Chiffard  was  no  man 
to  ask  questions  at  a  time  like  this.  He 
saw  the  steel  flashing  near  Glen's  throat, 
and  without  further  ceremony  he  lunged 
forward  and  thrust  his  own  meat-knife  deep 
into  the  man's  body  just  under  the  left 
arm,  dealing  what  must  have  been  instant 
death.  And  then,  in  his  growing  fury, 
as  the  Finn's  grasp  relaxed  on  the  pros- 
trate boy,  Chiffard  lifted  the  man  bodily 
from  the  deck,  poised  him  for  a  moment 
on  the  after  guard-rail,  and  heaved  him 

into  the  sea. 

242 


CHAPTER    XXII 
THE    FATE    OF   THE    MERRY  MADGE 

GLEN  was  still  lying  on  the  deck  breath- 
less and  half  stunned ;  but  when  he  as- 
sured us  he  was  not  hurt,  I  turned  tow- 
ards Thatcher,  calling  upon  Chiffard  to 
assist.  I  felt  almost  certain  that  he  was 
dead,  but  to  our  great  joy  his  pulse  was 
beating  feebly,  and  his  breath  came  heav- 
ily and  in  gasps  when  we  turned  him 
upon  his  back  and  propped  his  head  on 
my  coat,  which  I  pulled  off  and  rolled 
into  a  pillow.  From  the  cabin  I  brought 
some  brandy  and  forced  it  down  his  throat, 
and  we  chafed  his  hands  and  bathed  his 
face  until,  after  some  ten  minutes  of  this 
operation,  he  opened  his  eyes.  Then  we 
bandaged  his  head  after  such  clumsy 
243 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

manner  as  we  could,  and  made  him  as 
comfortable  as  possible  on  the  deck.  I 
wanted  to  carry  him  below,  but  the  poor 
fellow  raised  his  hands  in  such  prayerful 
objection  when  we  attempted  to  lift  him 
that  I  sent  the  cook  down  for  a  mattress 
and  a  blanket,  and  we  kept  him  above. 
For  this  let  us  again  offer  up  our  thanks 
to  Providence ! 

We  passed  the  brandy-bottle  over  to 
Glen,  and  a  couple  of  good  pulls  at  it 
revived  the  lad,  who  at  once  sat  up  and, 
to  our  questions,  gave  the  facts  that  fill 
out  this  chapter  of  death  with  the  events 
that  concern  him  and  his  father. 

When  McLeod  fell  beneath  Carque- 
mort's  coward  blow  he  tumbled  back- 
ward into  the  sea,  and  being  weighted 
with  rubber  boots  and  a  long  oil-skin  coat 
(and  senseless,  probably,  besides),  he  sank 
at  once.  Glen  was  a  good  swimmer,  and 
regained  the  schooner  in  two  strokes  after 

he  had  been  thrown  into  the  water  by 
244 


THE  FATE  OF  THE  MERRY  MADGE 

the  capsizing  of  the  dory.  He  clamber- 
ed upon  the  rail,  and  without  waiting  to 
see  what  was  going  on  aboard,  threw  off 
his  hat  and  shoes  and  dived  after  his  fa- 
ther. The  ice-cold  water  sent  him  quick- 
ly to  the  surface,  however,  half  numbed, 
and  he  pulled  himself  to  the  deck  just 
in  time  to  be  met  by  Semsen,  who  had 
meanwhile  come  to  his  senses  again  in 
the  cabin.  Under  ordinary  circumstances 
the  lad  would  have  been  a  match  for  the 
Finn,  but  half  frozen  as  he  was  he  fell 
an  easy  mark  to  the  latter's  attack,  and 
would  doubtless  have  proved  another  vic- 
tim to  the  conspiracy  if  Chiffard  had  not 
been  so  handy  with  his  meat-knife. 

All  this  time  we  could  hear  Carque- 
mort  cursing  and  groaning  where  he  had 
dropped  before  my  lucky  shots  half  an 
hour  before ;  and  when  we  felt  that  all 
had  been  done  that  was  possible  for 
Thatcher  and  Glen,  the  latter  being  also 
rolled  in  a  blanket  on  the  poop,  Chiffard 
245 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

and  I  went  forward  to  see  if  we  could  do 
anything  for  the  undeserving  blackguard. 
If  I  had  let  him  have  his  way,  the  cook 
would  have  sent  the  fellow  to  join  Sem- 
sen  ;  but  I  held  him  from  this,  and 
with  little  effort,  after  we  had  seen  the 
wounds,  for  one  of  my  bullets  had  torn 
clean  through  the  man's  body.  Even 
while  we  did  what  little  we  could  for 
him,  the  brute  cursed  and  reviled  us,  and 
called  out  again  and  again,  in  his  half- 
delirious  raving,  that  we  were  now  only 
two  to  divide  the  treasure — he  thinking, 
doubtless,  as  I  had  thought,  that  Thatch- 
er was  dead.  Presently,  however,  his  bawl- 
ing degenerated  into  a  wordless  mutter- 
ing, and  he  soon  fell  unconscious.  We 
carried  him  into  the  forecastle  and  did 
what  we  could  to  make  him  comfortable 
in  his  bunk,  but  that  was  not  much. 

During  the  excitement  of  the  past  hour 
none  of  us,  of  course,  had  paid  the  slight- 
est heed  to   anything  beyond  the  very 
246 


THE   FATE   OF   THE  MERRY  MADGE 

pressing  business  at  hand — our  world  be- 
ing for  the  time  bounded  by  the  bulwarks 
of  the  Merry  Madge — and  consequently 
we  had  failed  to  hear  the  low  moan  of 
a  fog-horn  that  must  have  been  sending 
its  warnings  to  us  through  the  mist  for 
a  considerable  period.  But  suddenly,  as 
we  came  aft  from  the  forecastle,  we  were 
called  to  a  sense  of  our  surroundings  by 
a  hoarse  roar  that  seemed  to  burst  out 
of  the  clouds.  We  were  too  startled  to 
realize  at  first  the  direction  whence 
the  whistling  had  come,  but  we  could 
judge  from  the  tone  that  a  great  steamer 
must  be  within  half  a  league  of  us.  We 
rushed  aft,  where  Glen  had  already  jump- 
ed to  his  feet  and  was  making  a  search 
for  the  tin  horn.  But  there  was  no  sign 
of  it  anywhere.  Chiffard  ran  forward  in 
the  hope  of  finding  it  in  the  bow,  and 
after  what  seemed  an  interminable  period 
to  our  straining  ears  the  fierce  bellowing 
of  the  fog -monster  roared  again  across 
247 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

the  quiet  sea.  Not  a  breath  of  air  stirred. 
The  sails  hung  limp  and  useless,  and  even 
if  there  had  been  a  breeze,  I  doubt  if  we 
could  have  done  much  towards  escaping 
our  fate.  The  cook  came  aft  empty-hand- 
ed, and  again  the  steamer  blew  that  awful 
note.  This  time  we  rushed  to  the  star- 
board rail,  and  even  poor  Thatcher  raised 
himself  on  his  elbow.  We  felt  as  if  the 
vessel  could  not  be  more  than  a  hundred 
yards  from  us.  God  will  that  she  might 
pass  across  our  bows ! 

"Shout!  All  hands  shout  together!" 
cried  Glen,  and  we  threw  our  united 
voices  into  a  desperate  yell. 

What  a  mockery !  We  might  as  well  have 
tried  to  speak  the  land,  and  as  our  pygmy 
call  died  away  we  heard  the  throbbing 
of  the  oncoming  propeller,  as  it  churned 
full  speed  through  the  fog-bound  sea. 
We  stood  like  stone  men,  leaning  upon 
the  rail  and  waiting  for  the  next  whistle. 
But  before  it  came,  a  great  dark  object 
248 


A   GREAT   DARK   OBJECT   ROSE  UP   OUT   OF  THE   SEA 


THE  FATE  OF  THE  MERRY  MADGE 

rose  up  out  of  the  sea  abeam  and  climbed 
high  into  the  fog,  like  some  huge  ocean 
monster  rearing  itself  to  fall  upon  its  prey. 
Terrified,  we  fell  back,  and  with  a  bellow- 
ing roar  of  the  whistle  and  a  hissing  of 
parting  water  the  great  iron  steamship 
crashed  into  the  Merry  Madge,  cutting 
her  clean  in  two  between  the  masts,  and 
with  a  groaning  and  scraping  of  timbers, 
charged  onward  through  the  wreck  and 
dove  again  into  the  thickness  of  the  mist. 
We  were  all  knocked  from  our  feet  as 
the  schooner  careened,  and  when  the 
main-mast  crashed  into  the  foaming  wa- 
ter astern  of  the  steamship,  that  part  of 
the  schooner  we  lay  on  listed  forward, 
and  I  just  managed  to  seize  Thatcher  by 
the  collar  in  time  to  save  him  from  slid- 
ing into  the  whirlpool.  When  I  looked 
up  the  steamer  was  beyond  the  scope  of 
our  vision,  and  not  a  sound  came  to  us 
from  her  again.  I  had  seen  a  man  at  her 

bow  as  she  struck  us,  and  I  had  seen 
249 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

him  throw  up  his  arms  and  turn  towards 
the  bridge,  and  probably  he  shouted,  but 
any  further  sign  of  human  life  aboard  our 
destroyer  was  not  given  to  us.  The  liner 
rushed  on  through  the  fog,  full  speed, 
towards  Europe,  and  apparently,  for  all 
her  hundreds  cared,  Heaven  might  help 
the  poor  banks  fishermen  ! 

When  we  had  in  some  measure  recov- 
ered from  the  shock  of  our  catastrophe, 
I  saw  that  the  four  of  us  were  clinging 
to  the  after  half  of  the  cloven  schooner, 
yet  in  no  immediate  danger  of  death  from 
drowning,  for  the  sea  was  still  calm.  The 
stern  of  the  Merry  Madge  was  yet  on  al- 
most an  even  keel,  and  the  ripples  wash- 
ed gently  up  the  slanting  deck  which  now 
lay  as  an  inclined  plane  rising  abruptly 
out  of  the  water  from  where  the  main- 
mast had  formerly  stood.  Beyond,  I  could 
espy  the  forward  half  of  the  schooner,  and 
I  knew  from  the  way  it  lay  that  the  forecas- 
tle was  well  under  water,  and  that  Carque- 
250 


THE  FATE  OF  THE  MERRY  MADGE 

mort,  therefore,  was  delivered  of  his  suf- 
ferings. On  the  waves  about  us  floated 
spars,  hatches,  casks,  planks,  and  various 
kinds  of  wreckage ;  but  there  was  one 
item  of  our  cargo  which  I  knew  would 
never  float  again,  and  that  was  the  gold 
which  had  laid  piled  in  the  cabin  just 
forward  of  the  main-mast,  and  must  have 
plunged  into  Davy  Jones's  locker  when 
the  big  stick  was  torn  from  its  fasten- 
ings. 

There  was  no  word  spoken  by  any  one 
for  a  long  space,  as  we  all  clung  for  life 
to  the  wreck.  When  at  last  we  did  come 
to  speech  our  talk  was  foolish  at  the  first, 
as  the  talk  of  men  thrown  out  of  one  dan- 
ger into  the  face  of  another  is  very  likely 
to  be.  Yet  from  talk  we  turned  present- 
ly to  action,  and  lashed  Thatcher  to  the 
wheel,  for  he  was  still  but  semiconscious, 
and  far  too  weak  to  do  anything  for  him- 
self. We  made  lashings  ready  for  our- 
selves, too,  against  the  possibility  of  a 
251 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

rising  wind.  But  even  so,  we  felt  the 
risk  we  were  taking,  for  the  hulk  we  clung 
to  might  fill  at  any  moment,  or  suddenly 
keel  over  and  go  down. 

Not  far  away,  however,  we  caught  sight 
of  one  of  our  dories,  which  seemed  whole, 
and  Glen,  being  already  drenched,  volun- 
teered to  swim  to  it  and  bring  it  back, 
we  to  keep  hallooing  to  him  should  the 
mist  thicken.  Chiffard  made  ready  to  go 
to  his  assistance  should  he  need  it ;  but, 
fortunately,  excitement  lent  power  to  the 
lad,  and  we  saw  him  at  last  clamber  safe- 
ly into  the  boat,  where  he  lay  for  some 
minutes  almost  exhausted.  Then  he  pad- 
dled clumsily  about,  propelling  his  craft 
by  the  palms  of  his  hands,  and  picked  up 
two  oars  from  the  drift  before  he  pulled 
back  to  us  on  the  derelict. 

We  threw  the  mattress  into  the  bottom 
of  the  boat  and  passed  Thatcher  over  the 
rail,  where  the  cautious  Chiffard,  who  had 

put  the  brandy-bottle  in  his  pocket,  dosed 
252 


THE    FATE   OF   THE   MERRY  MADGE 

the  wounded  man  into  a  partial  comfort 
again,  and  he  fell  off  into  a  heavy  sleep. 
I  looked  at  my  watch  and  found  that  it 
was  now  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 
This  concrete  knowledge  of  the  time  of 
day  brought  us  all  to  a  realization  of  the 
hunger  that  was  gnawing  at  our  stomachs, 
and  face  to  face  with  the  still  sterner  fact 
that  we  had  no  provisions  to  satisfy  this 
hunger,  and  probably  would  be  unable 
to  retrieve  any  from  either  portion  of  the 
wreck.  Nevertheless,  we  determined  upon 
an  attempt,  and  Chiffard  was  deputed 
to  row  over  to  the  bow  in  the  dory  and 
do  what  he  could  in  the  way  of  foraging. 
It  seemed  to  Glen  and  me  as  though  he 
were  gone  an  hour  or  more,  as  we  sat 
astraddle  of  the  taff  rail.  But  by  the  wratch 
his  expedition  occupied  him  less  than 
thirty  minutes.  In  that  time  he  collected 
two  tins  of  biscuit  and  six  bottles  of  red 
wine  that  had  been  stowed  in  the  galley. 
He  had  managed  to  get  these  by  cutting 
253 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

in  through  the  galley  skylight  with  a 
hatchet  that  he  found  in  the  chains.  We 
made  a  poor  meal  off  some  of  the  biscuit 
and  a  bottle  of  the  wine,  but  we  felt  some- 
what cheered  by  the  thought  that  star- 
vation was  at  least  twenty -four  hours 
further  away  from  us  than  had  at  first 
appeared. 

The  fog  still  hung  heavy  about  us  and 
no  sound  came  to  our  ears,  and  by  the 
time  night  fell  we  had  floated  out  of  sight 
of  the  other  half  of  the  Merry  Madge, 
and  hope  hung  heavy  in  our  hearts. 
There  was  little  sleep  for  any  of  us,  al- 
though we  took  turns  through  the  long 
night  at  lying  with  Thatcher  in  the  bot- 
tom of  the  dory,  while  two  watched  on 
the  wreck  holding  the  painter  in  hand, 
for  we  dared  not  tie  up  to  so  precarious 
a  buoy. 


CHAPTER   XXIII 
A   TREASURE    LAUGHED    AWAY 

DURING  the  night  we  suffered  consid- 
erably from  the  cold,  and  we  dared  not 
fortify  ourselves  with  what  was  left  of  the 
brandy  for  fear  of  depriving  Thatcher  of 
further  stimulant  should  he  take  a  turn 
for  the  worse.  But  our  sufferings  fell,  as 
our  hopes  rose,  at  about  four  o'clock — 
which  must  have  been  near  dawn — for  a 
light  breeze  ruffled  the  waters  and  seem- 
ed to  whisper  to  us  that  the  fog  would 
lift;  and  we  knew  that  if  it  did  there  was 
good  chance  of  our  being  seen  and  res- 
cued by  some  steamer,  for  we  were  ap~ 
parently  lying  in  the  lane. 

The  wind  increased  as  the  daylight 
grew,  and  at  sunrise  the  mist  went  tum- 
255 


FOUR  FOR   A  FORTUNE 


bling  off  to  westward,  disclosing  to  our 
anxious  gaze  nothing  but  a  rolling,  empty 
sea,  as  calm  and  peaceful  as  if  it  had 
never  known  a  tragedy.  Nowhere  in 
sight  was  the  bow  portion  of  the  ill-fated 
Merry  Madge,  and  we  judged  that  it  must 
have  gone  down  in  the  night. 

During  those  dark  hours  we  had  talk- 
ed, Chiffard  and  I,  of  our  great  loss ;  and 
hope  (clinging  to  a  straw,  as  hope  will) 
nursed  for  us  the  thought  that  at  least 
the  chest,  which  had  been  stowed  in  the 
port  state-room,  might  still  be  above  wa- 
ter, and  safe,  so  long  as  the  shattered 
stern  floated.  So  great  a  hold  did  this 
idea  obtain  upon  our  minds  that,  as  soon 
as  we  had  breakfasted  upon  claret  and 
biscuit,  we  started  to  cut  a  hole  through 
the  deck.  Thatcher  watched  us  eagerly 
from  the  dory,  for  he  had  rested  well  in 
the  night  and  could  now  sit  up  and  talk, 
suffering,  however,  from  violent  pains  in 

the  head. 

256 


A  TREASURE   LAUGHED  AWAY 

The  undertaking  gave  us  occupation, 
at  least,  which  was  of  benefit  under  the 
circumstances,  and  as  we  hacked  away 
at  the  planks  we  felt  within  us  a  cer- 
tain element  of  that  old  fever  which  had 
been  upon  us  at  the  time  we  were  roll- 
ing stones  on  the  summit  of  La  Grande 
Vigie.  But  the  present  was  slow  and  dif- 
ficult work  for  men  more  or  less  weak 
and  exhausted,  and  the  hatchet  we  la- 
bored with  was  a  sorry  tool  indeed. 

While  one  of  us  chopped  the  other  two 
sat  on  the  highest  part  of  the  rail  and 
watched  the  horizon  for  a  sail  or  for 
smoke,  and  it  was  during  one  of  my  tricks 
at  deck-splitting  that  Glen  gave  a  shout 
which  brought  us  all  to  our  feet  and 
caused  me  in  my  excitement  to  let  the 
hatchet  slip  from  my  hands  into  the  sea, 
and  almost  to  follow  it  myself.  But  the 
sight  I  was  called  to  was  worth  the  loss. 
A  little  brown  film  rested  on  the  water 
far  to  the  northeast,  and  from  time  to 

R  257 


FOUR  FOR  A   FORTUNE 

time  it  darkened  or  melted  almost  en- 
tirely away. 

"  A  steamer !"  cried  Glen. 

"Can  youxtell  how  she's  heading?" 
asked  Thatcher,  eagerly,  for  he  was  too 
low  down  even  to  see  the  signs. 

"  Not  yet,"  replied  Glen,  pulling  off  his 
shirt ;  "  but  give  me  that  oar  and  we'll  try 
to  make  them  see  us  if  they  come  this 
way." 

The  smoke  grew  heavier  and  heavier, 
and  after  half  an  hour  of  anxious  gazing 
we  could  see  the  mast-head  of  the  ap- 
proaching steamship.  I  cannot  tell  in 
words  how  we  felt  when  we  became  con- 
vinced that  we  lay  near  her  probable 
course,  nor  the  sensation  we  experienced 
as  she  became  plainly  visible,  and  how, 
at  length,  when  we  had  waved  and  waved 
seemingly  to  no  purpose,  we  saw  white 
puffs  issue  from  the  whistle,  and  present- 
ly heard  the  ship's  answer  to  our  signals. 
She  swerved  in  closer  to  the  wreck,  but 
258 


A  TREASURE   LAUGHED   AWAY 

she  seemed  to  take  an  eternity  in  plough- 
ing through  the  water  that  separated  us 
from  her.  Finally,  when  she  had  come 
close  enough  for  us  to  distinguish  the 
faces  and  forms  of  the  men  upon  her 
deck,  she  stopped  and  let  down  a  boat. 
Thatcher  had  spoken  no  word  during  all 
this  excitement,  but  when  he  saw  the 
boat  lowered  he  said : 

"  Men,  not  a  syllable  to  these  fellows 
about  the  fight.  We  were  run  down  and 
lost  the  captain  and  two  hands.  I  got  my 
wound  in  the  wrecking.  Understand  ?" 

We  nodded ;  but  Chiffard  said  : 

"And  the  chest?" 

"It's  all  right  about  the  chest,"  answer- 
ed Thatcher;  "  I'll  ask  the  captain  to  help 
us  get  it  when  we  go  aboard."  And  then 
we  turned  towards  the  boat  that  was  near 
and  cheered  lustily  for  our  rescuers. 

They  were  good-hearted,  rough  fellows 
who  pulled  us  into  the  stern  of  their  long- 
boat, and  the  officer  at  the  tiller  pro- 
259 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

duced  a  flask  first  thing.  Briefly  we  told 
of  our  experience,  and  I  mentioned  the 
chest  in  the  cabin. 

"  What's  in  it  ?"  asked  the  officer. 

"  Money,"  I  answered ;  "  a  good  deal 
of  money,  too." 

He  laughed,  and  the  men  followed  in 
loud  guffaw. 

"  That's  pretty  good,  too,"  continued 
the  officer.  "  A  banker  with  a  money- 
chest  !  How  long  have  you  fellows  been 
without  food  ?  Better  tell  that  yarn  to 
the  captain.  'Way  there !"  he  shouted, 
and  the  sailors  fell  to  their  oars,  laugh- 
ing the  while,  for  they  thought  us  out  of 
our  heads. 

I  saw  it  was  of  no  use  to  say  more 
to  the  officer,  and  waited  patiently  until 
we  were  brought  to  the  ship,  which  was 
the  British  tramp,  Dunkellen  Castle,  Cap- 
tain Christopher,  in  ballast  from  London 
to  New  York.  But  there,  too,  a  burly 

captain  laughed  in  our  faces  and  winked 

260 


A  TREASURE   LAUGHED  AWAY 

at  his  mate,  and  sent  us  all  below  to  the 
cabin,  where  the  cook  had  spread  us  a 
royal  feast  of  meat  and  coffee,  and  while 
we  were  yet  protesting  and  expostulating 
we  heard  the  engine  bell  tinkle,  and  soon 
the  ship  was  vibrating  from  stem  to  stern 
bearing  us  away  forever  from  what  little 
might  have  been  left  to  us  of  those  mill- 
ions we  had  seen  and  handled  and  owned. 
But  now  this  is  all  past  regrets. 

They  treated  us  well  aboard  the  Dun- 
kellen  Castle,  and  the  steward,  who  had 
some  knowledge  of  broken  heads,  dressed 
Thatcher's  wound  for  him  daily,  and  by 
the  time  we  got  back  to  doctors  he  was 
well  on  towards  recovery.  We  got  plenty 
of  rest  and  five  nights  of  sound  sleep,  and 
on  the  afternoon  of  the  sixth  day  the 
Dunkellen  Castle  dropped  her  anchor  off 
Bedloe's  Island. 

No  voyagers,  I  believe,  were  ever  more 
grateful  to  see  their  home  port,  and  when 

this  page  falls  under  the  eyes  of  Captain 
261 


FOUR   FOR  A  FORTUNE 

Christopher,  of  the  Dunkellen  Castle,  if  it 
ever  does,  he  may  feel  that  the  men  he 
rescued  on  the  Newfoundland  banks  will 
always  hold  for  him  a  long  credit  balance 
of  gratitude. 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

CONCLUSION. THE    YARN    OF  THE   NOTRE 

DAME 

IT  were  no  doubt  the  part  of  wisdom 
to  let  the  preceding  chapter  make  an  end 
to  this  narrative,  for  it  completes  the  tale, 
and  there  is  no  more  to  be  said  concern- 
ing our  adventures  in  that  unfortunate 
summer  of  1894.  But  we  have  been  so 
taunted  by  the  few  intimates  to  whom 
we  have  related  the  incidents  here  set 
forth,  that  I  cannot  resist  the  temptation 
of  casting  defiance  in  their  faces  and  of 
bidding  them  seek  further  evidence  if 
they  cannot  take  our  words  for  the  truth 
of  it  all. 

These  sceptics  will  find  in  the  Cana- 
dian shipping  list,  if  they  will  take  the 
263 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

trouble  to  look,  a  record  of  the  schooner 
Merry  Madge,  of  North  Sydney,  McLeod, 
master,  and  of  her  loss  at  sea  in  the  lat- 
ter part  of  August,  1894.  They  can  also 
easily  ascertain  that  Thatcher  and  I  were 
in  Halifax,  Nova  Scotia,  on  the  dates  given, 
and  they  may  trace  us  to  Sydney,  where,  I 
wager,  the  host  of  the  Hotel  des  Ambas- 
sadeurs  still  holds  a  memory  of  us.  That 
we  were  in  St.  Pierre  may  be  easily  proven, 
for  we  were  looked  upon  as  curiosities 
there,  and  I  dare  say  there  is  more  than 
one  person  to  this  day  wondering  how 
we  ever  got  away  from  the  island,  for  it 
must  have  seemed  to  them  that  we  disap- 
peared mysteriously.  And  as  to  the  truth 
of  our  rescue  by  the  crew  of  the  Dunkel- 
len  Castle,  it  is  a  simple  affair  to  watch 
the  shipping  news  in  any  New  York  daily 
paper,  and,  the  next  time  the  vessel  comes 
to  port,  to  go  aboard  of  her  and  put  plain 
questions  to  Captain  Christopher.  The 

only  assistance  I  must  refuse  to  these  in- 
264 


THE  YARN  OF  THE  NOTRE  DAME 

vestigators  is  the  disclosure  of  the  iden- 
tity of  our  good  friend  Chiffard.  But  I 
may  say  that  he  no  longer  keeps  on 
South  Fifth  Avenue.  Madame  moved 
the  establishment  while  he  was  away,  and 
I  should  be  the  last  one  to  give  their 
present  address,  for  you  will  remember 
that  Thatcher  holds  my  promise. 

As  to  the  history  of  the  treasure,  that 
came  to  us  quite  unexpectedly  in  the 
spring-time  of  the  following  year,  and 
from  our  old  friend  M.  de  Manclay,  who 
was  de  passage  in  New  York  on  his  way 
to  Europe  with  his  family.  We  found  him 
by  chance  at  the  little  French  hotel  in 
University  Place,  and  he  was  apparently 
overjoyed  at  seeing  us.  He  would  have 
none  of  our  refusals  to  dine  with  him, 
and  over  the  courses  he  talked  and  talked 
as  was  his  delight,  and  spun  yarn  after 
yarn  from  the  wealth  of  his  memories ! 

Out  of  pure  recklessness,  I  believe, 
Thatcher  asked  him  if  he  had  ever  heard 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

of  buried  treasure  in  Miquelon,  and  to 
our  unbounded  amazement  he  replied 
that  he  had,  and  at  once  riveted  our  at- 
tention by  saying  that  St.  Pierre,  like 
almost  every  other  island  along  the  At- 
lantic coast,  has  its  fable  of  hidden  gold. 

I  will  not  attempt  to  go  into  the  ful- 
ness of  the  story  as  told  by  our  garrulous 
friend,  for  the  essence  of  it  is  sufficient 
to  our  purpose,  and  the  facts  in  brief  are 
these.  (We  have  verified  them  since 
from  the  archives  of  the  Ministere  de  la 
Marine  et  des  Colonies,  in  Paris.) 

In  1744,  three  French  ships,  the  Louis 
Erasme,  the  Marquis  d'Antin,  and  Notre 
Dame  de  la  Delivrance  (cf.  the  lettering 
on  the  lid  of  the  strong  box !)  set  sail 
from  Callao,  Peru,  with  a  vast  amount  of 
treasure  concealed  under  a  surface  cargo 
of  cocoa.  Off  the  Azores  the  French- 
men fell  in  with  the  British  privateers, 
Duke  and  Prince  Frederick,  and  after  a 

three-hours'  fight  the  Louis  Erasme  and 
266 


THE  YARN  OF  THE  NOTRE  DAME 

the  Marquis  d'Antin  were  captured.  In 
the  smoke  and  the  excitement  of  the  ac- 
tion the  Notre  Dame  de  la  Delivrance 
made  good  her  escape.  Her  captain,  not 
daring  to  approach  the  French  coast  lest 
he  likewise  fall  a  prey  to  the  enemy, 
whose  privateers  were  cruising  about  that 
region  in  great  numbers,  crowded  on  all 
sail  and  laid  his  course  for  Louisburg, 
then  in  the  possession  of  the  French 
King.  In  about  twenty  days  the  Notre 
Dame  sighted  Scatary,  and  her  captain 
must  have  thought  his  treasure  saved ; 
but,  as  ill  luck  would  have  it,  he  fell  in 
with  the  British  ships  Sunderland,  Bos- 
ton, and  Chester.  When  they  sighted  the 
enemy  from  the  tops,  the  French  were 
close  in  to  a  fleet  of  cod  fishermen  from 
St.  Pierre.  The  captain  hailed  one  of 
the  bankers  and  conceived  the  idea  of 
dividing  the  risk,  by  transshipping  half 
of  his  precious  cargo.  This  task  he  ac- 
complished in  little  more  than  an  hour, 
267 


FOUR  FOR  A  FORTUNE 

and  as  the  wind  was  light  the  British  fleet 
had  made  but  a  small  approach  when  the 
Notre  Dame  finally  hoisted  all  sail  in  flight. 
But  she  was  eventually  captured,  and  the 
crews  of  the  Chester,  Boston,  and  Sun- 
derland  got  great  prize-money  —  over 
$4,000,000  in  bars  of  gold  being  taken 
with  the  Notre  Dame.  Rumor  has  it  that 
the  fishermen  made  St.  Pierre  in  safety, 
and  buried  the  treasure  somewhere  on 
the  island.  "  But,"  said  M.  De  Manclay, 
confidently,  "  I  have  small  faith  in  such  a 
possibility — else  some  record  must  have 
been  made  of  this  fact.  The  schooner 
was  lost  in  the  sea,  or  captured  by  the 
enemy — which  is  the  more  likely — and 
that  was  an  end  of  it,  voila  tout  T 

"  And  you  say  half  the  Notre  Dames 
treasure  was  thrown  aboard  the  fishing- 
boat  ?"  asked  Thatcher. 

"  So  the  story  goes." 

"  Then  the  fishermen  carried  as  much 

as  the  ship — four  million  dollars  ?" 
268 


THE  YARN  OF  THE  NOTRE  DAME 

"  It  is  well  possible,"  said  M.  de  Man- 
clay,  laughing.  "  The  larger  the  figure, 
the  greater  the  romance,  eh  ?" 

"And  the  gold  has  never  been  found?" 
I  asked,  ingenuously. 

"  No ;  nor  will  be,"  said  the  old  French- 
man. 

"  Has  no  treasure  ever  been  dug  up 
on  the  island  ?" 

"  Not  that  I  ever  heard  of,"  answered 
the  old  gentleman.  "And  had  there  been 
I  should  have  known  of  it.  News  of  that 
kind  travels  fast." 

I  did  not  feel  quite  so  sure  about  that. 
And  perhaps  M.  de  Manclay  will  change 
his  mind  if  he  will  send  some  one  to 
the  top  of  La  Grande  Vigie  to  report  to 
him  upon  the  empty  pit  twenty-five  paces 
from  the  summit. 


THE    END 


BY  JAMES    BARNES 


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